The Path
by President Luthor
Summary: Alternate universe. Five years after college, Clark faces a destiny he does not want -- but must accept. An estranged friend intends to expose a secret. Lex makes a deal that seals his fate forever. COMPLETE Jul28/02
1. CH. 1

AU WARNING: Please keep an open mind – it's several years after Smallville as we know it. If you're looking for warm, fuzzy, coming-of-age angst, this story isn't for you. Check your pre-conceived notions at the door. This is a future that has yet to pass. They've left behind their teenaged lives, gone to university and have several years of real work/life experience behind them This has the potential of becoming a truly tragic tale. It's a future turned on its head, a world that we don't want for them, but is nonetheless probable. It happens because they make what seem to be reasonable choices. Everyone is more jaded, less willing to confide in one another. You'll see why ...  
  
SUMMARY: College graduation has passed. Five years after, Clark, Chloe and the gang have moved on with their lives. Clark, on the brink of his destiny as the Man of Steel, confronts a future he does not want -- but must accept. It is a time to re-assess old friendships. A test of loyalty turns ally into foe. And one estranged friend is duty-bound to betray a secret. Not a sequel.  
  
[Daily Planet offices – About five years after college]  
  
Clark Kent, general assignment reporter for the Planet, sat in the office of the urban affairs writer. Not the best office in the building, but a sign nonetheless of the writer's rising star in the revered newspaper.  
  
Urban Affairs writer Lois Lane, that is. "I have to take this call, Clark. Just give me a minute." She grilled some city bureaucrat about who-knows- what irregularity in some report.  
  
Clark had been uneasy. He had worked as hard as Lois Lane and Chloe Sullivan, graduating with honours from Metropolis University's School of Journalism. But he returned to his hometown of Smallville to tend to the final affairs of Jonathan Kent. He watched ... as his father slowly died from terminal cancer. His mother, Martha, died too. At least her spirit, when the doctor finally told her that her beloved husband had passed on. She did what she could to maintain the farm, but it just seemed like going through the motions.  
  
Five years went by as Clark tended to the family farm and his mother's slowly deteriorating health. He continued to write freelance articles for the Planet. He finally got his lucky break when Perry White phoned him about an opening in general assignment. "Clark, you have to move on. Your future is no longer here in Smallville," Martha had insisted. He took her advice, but he soon learned that his former classmates had surpassed him.  
  
Since the first day of university, Lois Lane was driven to succeed. And determined to prove herself. After five years with the Planet, she had catapulted from the general assignment pool to her own beat in urban affairs. Several national newspaper awards and a Pulitzer nomination for whistle-blowing on city hall corruption ensured her place among the Planet's great reporters.  
  
Clark's high school pal (and potential love interest) Chloe had also moved on. She stopped holding a candle for the indifferent Clark and became involved with a brash, young photographer: James Olsen. They would join the Daily Planet within six months of graduation. Chloe, too, broke out of the general assignment pool to become the Planet's most aggressive crime beat reporter. She took no prisoners, thus earning the praise of the police and the attorneys – and a rumoured mob contract on her life. While she diligently pursued the gritty stories of Metropolis' underworld, Jimmy Olsen's photography career took him to the frontlines of Sierra Leone, unrest in Bosnia and riots in Indonesia.  
  
Faced with an opportunity to join Jimmy on-location as a freelancer, she chose her steady career amidst the steel and glass cathedrals of Metropolis. Jimmy soon grew apart from her. Clark could do nothing as Chloe and Jimmy finally ended their tumultuous relationship in a heated phone conversation. "I have my life now," Jimmy declared, "and you're no longer a part of it." That was the formal breakup, but Clark knew it had ended the moment Chloe picked her job over being wedded to Jimmy's jetsetting career.  
  
Chloe and Lois respected each other as peers, nothing more. There was a falling out during their final year at j-school. My fault, Clark thought. I shouldn't have ... He stopped himself. Why am I thinking about the past? Am I bitter? Resentful that my career has stalled?  
  
Smallville. We were so close back then. Chloe, Pete and I. Oh, and Lana.  
  
Lana. How has she been holding up?  
  
At the end of their senior year in high school, US Marine Pvt. Fordman (Whitney) returned from an uneventful tour of duty in Korea. "Will you marry me, Lana Lang?" The words that convinced Clark that Smallville held no future happiness for him. Clark's dad had taken a turn for the worst, so he was spared from watching his dream girl marry someone else. Less than year after their marriage, a crisis broke out in the Caucasus region of Central Asia. Renegade Russian battalions, dissatisfied with the loss of prestige and morale-breaking budget cuts, seized vital pipelines and made demands of the Kremlin. The Russians called for a UN intervention force, which was soundly vetoed. NATO had other ideas and send a 'peacekeeping' force to keep the renegades and the Russians apart. One misunderstanding led to a murdered British soldier ... and sparked a shooting war. Whitney had risen to a corporal's rank and had orders to recapture a vital pipeline. The American regiment prevailed. Whitney, who had dreams of being a starting quarterback for an NFL team, died instantly when he stepped on a landmine.  
  
Clark could not bear to watch as Lana bravely endured the full burial ceremony at Arlington. Clutching the folded flag that sealed her fate. Lana had begun a business diploma at Leesburg College, but suspended her studies when the Caucasus crisis erupted. "You ... could continue your studies, Lana. It's time to lead your life," Clark had suggested, shortly after the funeral.  
  
Lana was livid. "Of all the crowd at Smallville High, Whitney was the only one who stood by me! You, Chloe ... all of you ... simply left. You were too good for Smallville. You had plans, dreams. I felt ... left out. Alone." She could hold back the sorrow no longer – and sobbed.  
  
That was one year ago. Clark hadn't spoken to her since then.  
  
"Clark? Clark, I lost you for a minute, there?" Lois sat at her desk. "You had a lead on Luthor Corp.'s lobbying for the new stadium?"  
  
"Oh, yes." Clark pulled out a press release. "Lex Luthor plans to tear down the old stadium and build a modern one. It's part of a major redevelopment strategy – to coincide with the city's bid for the Summer Olympics."  
  
"Thanks, Clark." Lois took the file.  
  
"I – could work on the story?" Clark inquired.  
  
"No can do. You're a friend of Lex, aren't you? It's a conflict-of-interest thing. I'm sorry. I'll have Jon from Business follow up on the Luthor angle. But ... you could do a piece on the redevelopment plan."  
  
"Gotcha," Clark gathered his notebook. I always forget. I'm a reporter now. I'm not supposed to let my personal life affect my objectivity.  
  
Although Lex tried his best to influence that objectivity. Alexander Luthor had wrested control of Luthor Corp. from his father two years ago. Lex had assembled some of the leading biotech and research firms together into a formidable subsidiary of the Corporation. Lionel was speechless at the annual shareholders' meeting when they voted 70% to remove him as Chairman and CEO. Oh, he still kept the title of President, but effective control fell to the new chief executive officer, Lex Luthor.  
  
Lionel, stripped of the company he founded, placed himself into exile, living in his various estates in Switzerland, Hong Kong and London. Lex paid him a courtesy call during the summers, often at the Luthor yacht anchored off the Greek coast. Only to touch base, not ask for advice.  
  
But without Lionel's network of powerful society friends, Lex had to establish new contacts, including making friends with city councillors on the influential Urban Development Committee. So far, they had power over him. He wanted to alter that equation – and was looking for dirt to persuade less-cooperative councillors to back his building projects. Clark's reluctance to assist him was becoming a point of contention. Clark was still a friend, but his job as a reporter was putting strains on their friendship.  
  
Clark's phone rang. "Planet city desk, Clark Kent speaking ..."  
  
"My friend, the big city reporter!" Lex exclaimed.  
  
Clark heard the roar of engines. "Where are you?"  
  
"I'm about to land at Metropolis International. I just returned from Switzerland, pushing for the Olympic bid. You should come along sometime ... I could put you in touch with some contacts at the IOC ..."  
  
"Not my turf," Clark was evasive. "I'm just a general assignment reporter. Which means I'm staying put in Metropolis for the time being."  
  
"You're still on for the Sharks-Bills game, right? Corporate box ... or does Perry White have ethics guidelines against hanging out with an old buddy of yours?"  
  
Clark chuckled. "I'll be there." He paused. "Look, Lex, I know things have been rough – for both of us – these past few years. I've grown apart from Chloe and Lois. I – don't want that to happen to us."  
  
Lex gazed down at towering skyscrapers of Metropolis. It's my city now. "Clark, business is business. I promise you, my development plans won't affect our friendship. And I apologize if I've leaned on you when I shouldn't have. You have an important role at the Planet. It's not my place to disrupt your job. Oh – we're about to land. I'll send the car to pick you up. Friday."  
  
"Happy landings," Clark hung up the phone.  
  
"Chatting with Metropolis' favourite son again," Chloe grumbled. "I don't get how you can be so cosy with Lex ... after what he's doing up in Alaska."  
  
Clark was getting tired of her holier-than-thou lectures. "Look, the way Lex explained it, his mining operation will create thousands of needed jobs up there. And he says he'll minimize the environmental impact ..."  
  
"And you take him at his word?!" Chloe couldn't believe what she was hearing. "The only reason Luthor Corp. won that mining concession was because his lobbyists threatened to pull financing for about a dozen senators!"  
  
"Oh come on! That story came from the Gotham Times. Gotham City is jealous of Lex's urban revitalization projects and would do anything to cast a bad light on those plans." Chloe shook her head and marched away.  
  
"For someone who claims to be objective, " Clark had blurted within earshot, "you're definitely good making judgment calls based on bias!"  
  
"Okay, okay!" Perry White intervened. He called Chloe back. And glared at Clark. "You both have a point, alright! Chloe – I expect reporters to base judgments on fact, not hearsay. I don't want my reporters' opinions spilling out onto their news articles. We have people who do that for a living. They're callled 'columnists'! Love him or hate him, Lex Luthor is a leading citizen in this town. I don't want the Planet dragged into a needless libel suit! Isn't Metro P.D. holding a press conference at five?" Chloe gasped and dashed to the elevator.  
  
Clark grinned smugly, but Perry glared at him. "Not so fast, Kansas Kid. I was always uncomfortable about your coziness with Lex Luthor. Now that you're covering the urban development story, I'm afraid there is a conflict- of-interest. Lex is the leading candidate to spearhead Metropolis' Olympic bid ... a bid based on the success of this very development! I don't want you spending so much time with him."  
  
"Are you questioning my judgment, Perry?!" Clark demanded.  
  
Perry scratched his head. "No, Mr. Kent, I'm not. You're a good reporter. I'm just worried that – with your friendship to Lex – your objectivity might have a blind spot when it comes to all things Luthor."  
  
"Lex is my friend. That's my private life. I won't let that get in the way of my job! If you will excuse me, I have an interview at city hall." Clark stormed out of room.  
  
Perry glanced at Lois. "It's those two – the Smallville duet – they're going to be the death of me!"  
  
"I'm pretty confident in Chloe and Clark's abilities," Lois replied. "At crunch time, they'll always pull through."  
  
I hope so, Perry thought. I would hate to have to let either of them go.  
  
***  
  
Chloe hailed a cab. "Metro P.D. Headquarters." The driver nodded and pulled into traffic.  
  
So we're now at each other's throats, Chloe thought. How could our friendship deteriorate so badly? We were such good friends in Smallville.  
  
We could have been more ...  
  
Six years ago we were in our third-year of Metropolis U.'s demanding j- school program. Clark, Lois and I had picked the print journalism stream in our second year – no surprise there. With my twice-a-week column in the varsity newspaper, the Quill – plus the occasional freelance piece – I was spending less and less time with Clark.  
  
I think that's what happened. Clark's dad had just been diagnosed with an inoperable malignant brain tumour. Cancer, undoubtedly caused by the new aluminum smeltering plant built on the edges of Smallville. An old acquaintance of Lex's had purchased the land ... and proceeded to pollute the entire county.  
  
Clark spent a week in Smallville. Jonathan Kent was dying. There was nothing the doctors, or anyone, could do. Lex spent the next year – and millions of dollars – recruiting the best doctors, researchers and techniques, trying to come up with a solution. I have to admit, if there was a moment that Lex proved his loyalty to Clark, that was it.  
  
Jonathan had ordered Clark to return to his studies. "If you're going to watching me die instead of living your life ... there's no sense to that!" Reluctantly, Clark returned to Metropolis.  
  
At the darkest moment of his life, I should have been there. I wasn't.  
  
Lois Lane was. Lois was just as hard working as I was. Even then, she was tough-as-nails. The Planet even picked up one of her varsity stories about alleged misuse of university funds. Despite her busy schedule, Lois was there. To listen as Clark saw the stability of his family wither away. Martha was finding it harder and harder to maintain the farm on her own.  
  
After graduation, Clark chose to return to Smallville. By then, I had been seeing Jimmy Olsen for about eight months. I would learn – too late -- that Clark had tried to contact me at the Quill's offices. He had wanted advice – what to do about school, the farm – advice that I would have gladly given. We were wrapping up my final edition of the paper. "There's a call for you," Dan, the photo editor told me. "I'm really, really busy!" I had yelled. "I don't have time right now." Clark must have heard that.  
  
"Would you like to leave a message?" Dan asked. "Hello?! Hmm, they hung up. Jerk."  
  
I spotted him later at the campus coffeehouse. Spilling his soul to Lois Lane.  
  
"... thanks for hearing me out, Lois," Clark had said.  
  
"Follow your heart, you'll know the right thing to do," Lois replied.  
  
Then I showed up. Completely clueless. How could I be so stupid? "Guys, it's past 9! Awfully late to still be on campus." Lame attempt at humour.  
  
Clark just glared at me. "Thanks again, Lois." He glared at me again. "I've got to run. I've got things to do."  
  
Chloe was shocked at the brush-off. "Geez, somebody has a big chip on his shoulder!"  
  
"Chloe, didn't you know? Clark – he's going to move back to Smallville. After graduation."  
  
"No, he's not. His future is here. In Metropolis."  
  
"Why didn't you take Clark's call?" Lois demanded.  
  
"He didn't call me."  
  
"At the Quill office?? But apparently, you were too busy!"  
  
"Yeah, I was too busy. I'm the editor – it's my final edition and it had to be ... oh ... someone tried to call me this afternoon ..."  
  
Lois was angry. "I found Clark walking on campus. All he wanted was a few moments of your time, that's all! To talk."  
  
I turned around, but Clark had already left.  
  
That shouldn't have been a surprise. With every missed coffee date, every rescheduled rendezvous, every cancelled study session over a span of three years, I had told him that I was moving on. He took the hint. Going steady with Jimmy Olsen in my final year finally signaled the end of any hope that I still had feelings for him. Why should he stay in Metropolis?  
  
He returned to the only people who supported him – loved him – without question. His family.  
  
I should have known. I knew. I just didn't want to stray from the path that I had chosen. I got what I always wanted. My dream job at the Daily Planet, the 'New York Times of the Mid-West'.  
  
Clark and I still have coffee. To swap sources. To rant about the corruption in the city. I've made an attempt to open the door. Restore some trust. I wasn't there when I should have been. For Clark, that's an albatross I'll have to wear.  
  
A few days ago, we had coffee. A rare lunch break.  
  
"... Councillor da Costa is on the Police Services Committee, you should talk to him ..." Clark offered. He was a good colleague. A co-worker. I hated that. The distance.  
  
"Clark, can we stop talking about work for just this once," I blurted.  
  
"Uhh, okay."  
  
"How's Mrs. Kent? The farm?" As if, all of a sudden, he would start confiding in me like he used to in Smallville.  
  
"She's as good as can be," Clark responded tersely. "The farm's holding up." That was all he was prepared to offer. "... My sources tell me that there's a chance if the city refuses the pay hike, the cops might stage a wildcat strike ..." He went back to his comfort zone: work – effectively slamming the door on me.  
  
Is it my fault? I had plans, too. My future does not depend on him! Clark also resented that I lost touch with Lana. But we all did. At least he called her up once in awhile. I did email her frequently during my freshman year. Attended her marriage to Whitney. After that ... I didn't have time. You can't go home again, I believed.  
  
"Metro P.D." the cab driver announced.  
  
Back to the present, Chloe. The news conference had already started.  
  
"... we have formed an elite squad – detectives, SWAT teams, 100 extra patrolmen – to combat the rise in organized crime ..."  
  
"Has this move been prompted by the attempted hit on the district attorney?" one reporter hollered.  
  
The police chief paused. "We have always been committed to undermining the mob. The D.A. situation is a separate investigation."  
  
Chloe shoved her way to the front. "By this show of force, Chief, are you declaring war on the mob?"  
  
"Ms. Sullivan, over the past six months, I've had to bury eight constables. Only last week ..." the chief wiped his eyes, "...Constable Jenkins ... he left a wife and a little boy ... yes, you tell your readers and viewers ... Metropolis won't stand for this any longer! This isn't Gotham City. Rupert Thorne, your cronies and gangsters ... we're on your tail. Set up shop in our city ... and we will take you down!"  
  
The next day announced Metropolis' battle cry.  
  
In the Daily Planet:  
  
'CHIEF O'REILLY DECLARES WAR ON THE MOB'  
  
In the tabloid, the Inquisitor:  
  
'CHIEF TELLS MOB BOSS THORNE: YOUR ASS IS MINE!!'  
  
Even in the esteemed Gotham Times:  
  
'METRO P.D. PLEDGES SWIFT ACTION AS GOTHAM CRIME BOSS THORNE EXPANDS MID- WEST OPERATIONS'  
  
Rupert Thorne held court in the suburban hotel, the Radisson Metropolis West. The smoky Cabana Lounge.  
  
"The Planet's been putting the heat on us since the raid on our body rub parlours," an associate grumbled.  
  
"It's that blonde chick, their beat reporter," another associate downed his shot of whiskey, "the little bitch!"  
  
"Chloe Sullivan, the Planet's feisty crime reporter," Rupert scanned the front page again. "They could have at least put a photo of me on the front."  
  
Chloe is a problem. A problem that needed to be solved.  
  
"Boys, you know what to do."  
  
Sorry, Ms. Sullivan. Nothing personal.  
  
It's just business. 


	2. CH. 2

[Wichita, Kansas]  
  
"This is KTAC, Talk Radio 800. We're back to take your calls. I'm your host, Pete Ross. The topic today: Is Luthor Corp. getting away with breaking environmental regulations? Remember, he ponied up millions in the last gubernatorial race. Your thoughts, Wichita ..."  
  
Wichita. What ever happened to Metropolis? Chloe, Clark and I were going to be the Three Musketeers of the j-school. We were going to take the city by storm. All for one ... and one for all.  
  
Bull.  
  
I remember standing in line – the first week – with Chloe. Waiting to get our photos taken for the student ID cards.  
  
"That new Tom Clancy thriller, Without Remorse, is out this Friday. I was wondering if you, me and Clark could check it out?"  
  
"I'm afraid I'll have to take a rain check," she had said. "The Quill is having a recruiting meeting ... they're looking for new writers!"  
  
That was when we started to drift apart. Clark and I would make plans to go for coffee, or a study session, or something ... we'd ask Chloe. "I can't, maybe later." That was her answer. We'd joke about it.  
  
But she kept turning us down. Then Clark met Lois Lane. I figured, hey, he's looking for a Chloe-clone.  
  
I was wrong. He was looking for a new friend. One who shared his passion for writing. I was more into broadcasting. When I picked the tv/radio stream in my sophomore year, Chloe, Clark and Lois no longer shared the same courses with me. "Hey, we still have English Lit classes together? We'll still hang out!" Chloe offered half-heartedly.  
  
Clark and I traded knowing glances. Yeah, right. I expected that Chloe would get engrossed in establishing her career – at the expense of her friendship with me and Clark.  
  
Clark and I struggled to keep our own friendship alive. But Lex Luthor's offers to see the Sharks in the corporate box, his offers to spend spring break at his villa in Tuscany ... they were much more appealing than just 'hanging out' with me and my part-time-job-at-JC-Penneys wages.  
  
I took the step no one expected. I quit the j-school.  
  
"Why? I thought you LOVED it here?" Clark had asked.  
  
"This school is not for me. This city just doesn't jive with me," I told him, "I'm going to transfer to Kansas State."  
  
"Why do you want to go there?" Chloe inquired. 'There'. I ignored her remark. She's from Kansas, too. Metropolis was not the centre of the universe. Not to me.  
  
"Kansas is home. I'd be more comfortable there."  
  
"And not here?" Clark asked. I know you wanted to have things like the way they were, Clark. You wanted your best buddy to stay by your side – even as you spent more time going to art galleries and museums with Lois.  
  
Your best buddy grew up.  
  
I left Metropolis U. that summer, never to return. Clark visited me once at Kansas State, but my roommate told him I was covering an NCAA quarterfinal basketball game out of state. He didn't try to visit again.  
  
Mr. and Mrs. Kent sent me a card congratulating me on my graduation. They didn't have to. 'We're so proud of you. With love, Jonathan and Martha.' That was nice. I always liked them. The sky was bright. Blue sky for miles ... the day of the funeral for Jonathan Kent. I visited Mr. Kent on his deathbed only weeks before. "Clark and you have always been friends. I'm glad he still values you as a friend."  
  
I did value him as a friend. He valued Lex Luthor's friendship more. Mr. Kent's words haunted me that day. Seeing Lex's expressionless face. His words. "Mr. Kent was a great man," Lex declared.  
  
I let it all out. I shouldn't have, but I wasn't going to listen to Luthor's hollow platitudes.  
  
"Your friend owns HyperChem! The plant ... it ruined Mr. Kent's crops, the crops of other families. And the aluminum ... that's why he got cancer. You stand here pretending to mourn for a man you never really knew. Or cared about!"  
  
"Pete!" Clark intervened, and glanced apologetically at Lex. "He was close to my dad. Pete's just upset."  
  
"We all miss Mr. Kent," Lex tried to pat me on the shoulder.  
  
"Don't you touch me!" I shrugged him away. "Don't you ever put your hands on me, Luthor!" Mrs. Kent consoled me. After all these years, I realize that I had lost my best friend that day. Without Mr. Kent's steadying hand and crystal-clear advice about the dangers of the Luthor family, Clark placed his faith squarely in the one man I could never trust.  
  
Clark knew how much I cared about his family. About him. I saw you, Clark, as you tried to make Lex feel better about my verbal attack, one that he so richly deserved. The death of Jonathan Kent was a turning point. No longer would I hide my hatred of Lex Luthor out of deference to my buddy, Clark. He chose Lex's friendship over mine. That's his right to choose. And his mistake.  
  
He did try to patch things up. He met me down in the lobby of KTAC after my shift, about three years ago.  
  
"Clark Kent? Oh my God, how are you?" I gave him a hug. Still a friend.  
  
We stopped at some Starbucks a few blocks away. It was like old times. Almost.  
  
"Lois, I think she's being tapped for the Urban Affairs beat," Clark mentioned.  
  
"That's great. And Chloe?"  
  
"She's still with Jimmy Olsen, but he's not in the country. Again."  
  
"I told her the long-distance thing wouldn't work," I reminded him.  
  
As it turned out, Clark wasn't there just to see me. "KTAC has been a bit hard lately on Lex, the stuff you're reporting about him ... it's pretty rough ..."  
  
"So that's it. You want me to lay off on your rich buddy. I have my sources ... like you. And they tell me he's nothing but a snake oil salesman with expensive suits. Luthor is trouble. I see it, your dad saw it."  
  
Clark snapped. "Don't bring my father into this. Lex forgave you for your outburst at the funeral, did you know that?! He won't be so kind if you keep barraging his company with your commentaries!"  
  
"He's forgiven me? I don't give a damn if he holds a grudge against me or not! You should have listened to your father about the Luthors. Well, have a nice life, Clark." I left him behind and walked out into the storm.  
  
I haven't spoken to Clark since that night.  
  
"Lex Luthor cares nothing about the people of Kansas! He's building his petrochemical plants, backing politicians who subscribe to his pro-business platform ... he's no good for Kansas ... and no good for America!!" one irate caller screamed.  
  
I nod in agreement. "I hear ya. We've got to go to a break. Next, we'll piece together this unholy alliance of Luthor's: from the petrochemical companies, to city hall, all the way up to the governor's mansion. This week's edition of LuthorWatch in 60 seconds."  
  
I remember how Enron, the energy giant, crumbled under its own greediness. Lex Luthor, that's going to happen to you.  
  
When it does, I want to be the guy to break the news to the world. I'll scream it -- so loud that Jonathan Kent can hear it. You were right about him, Mr. Kent, since Lex first arrived in Smallville all those years ago.  
  
Someday, Clark will see it.  
  
[Near Metropolis City Hall]  
  
Clark looked at the imposing civic building down the block. Councillor Maria von Hutton's office is there somewhere.  
  
He passed an alleyway. I'll shave off five minutes from my trip. He was about to super-sprint through the deserted lane when something swooped down before him.  
  
"Rupert Thorne's in town. I'm giving you a heads-up," the figure mumbled in a grinding, gravel-toned voice.  
  
"The racketeering kingpin from Gotham?! He's a mid-level goon – not exactly La Cosa Nostra," Clark scoffed.  
  
The imposing figure jabbed a finger into Clark's chest. "Rupert Thorne is more than that. He has his paws into the drug trade from Jersey to Seattle, gun-running in South America, prostitution rings, illegal immigrants ... I've spent the past five years trying to keep one step ahead of him. Now he's expanding ... into the mid-west. That means Metropolis. The hit on your D.A.? Thorne ordered it."  
  
"Chloe says the evidence points to some biker gangs," Clark replied.  
  
"She should check into her facts more," the figure stated. "Here." He handed Clark a file. 'Classified: GCPD report'. "The hitman is a low-life by the name of Mackenzie, one of Thorne's enforcers."  
  
"How did you --?" Clark began, but he knew better. This friend from the shadows operated on the fringes of the law. He had heard the rumours. Some sort of masked vigilante. Only he knew that the rumours were indeed fact.  
  
"Tell Chloe to watch her step. Rupert won't hesitate to harm people, if it serves his purposes." The figure soared again, to the top of the building ... and disappeared.  
  
Damn, Clark thought as he skimmed through the report. He won't let up on me. Dragging me into his holy crusade against evil. If Bruce isn't careful, he'll get himself killed. 


	3. CH. 3

[Cabana Lounge, the Radisson Metropolis West]  
  
Lex coughed. Rupert Thorne puffed his fine Cuban cigar, savouring the aroma.  
  
"I realize this is 'your turf', Mr. Luthor. Your father built this town. I respect that. Creators, founders ... I think of myself as a creator, too."  
  
Lex smirked. "Oh yes, your strip clubs, illegal casinos and brothels have done wonders for Gotham City's image."  
  
"A man with humour – I like that." He snapped his finger. A lithe blonde waitress in a crop top and velvet skirt brought Mr. Thorne his martini.  
  
"Lex, may I introduce Misty. She's going to be movie star someday."  
  
Lex shuddered. I'd rather not ask what sort of movie she'd be 'starring' in. Poor girl. This city will eat her alive.  
  
"Ohmigod, you're Lex Luthor!" Misty squealed. She handed him wine list. "Care for a drink?"  
  
"A glass of your house wine will be fine," Lex replied. He looked around at the lounge patrons. A group of labourers, a pair of firefighters, three suits (likely from out of town) ... the riff-raff of suburbia. He glanced at the main entrance.  
  
One of Thorne's "associates" – Mackenzie – pointed at him. "You da man, Luthor." He made a joke to another associate, who thought it was funny.  
  
Lex wasn't laughing. What the hell am I doing here, with Gotham City's most notorious mob boss?!  
  
"I predict that you will surpass your father, Lex. That's why I called this meeting." He opened a copy of the Smallville Ledger. 'KANSAS GOVERNOR HOLDEN WILL NOT SEEK NEW TERM: THE RACE BEGINS"  
  
"Interesting news," Lex appeared to be indifferent.  
  
Thorne chortled. "I know you better than that. Your papers recently applauded the hydro workers' work-to-rule campaign. You've put money into the electoral war chests of some prominent pro-labour state assemblymen. Sounds to me like you're courting potential allies."  
  
"That's right," Lex was becoming nervous, "I'm an industrialist. I lobby government officials all the time. It's easier for me when those elected to public office – share my views."  
  
Misty brought over a platter of hot wings. "Why, thank you, babe," Thorne drooled. "If you're looking for some weekend – how do I put this – companionship, I have an outfit just off the interstate. We have new hostesses this week."  
  
"I think I'll pass. Look, Mr. Thorne, no one's fooling anyone here. You're a man of considerable influence in the labour movement. A man of power. So am I. The union bosses and their people can muster hundreds of thousands to work for one cause. I want that dedication, that support ..." Lex leaned towards Thorne. "I want to command their loyalty."  
  
"You want? Everyone wants something." He sucked down a hot wing. "Life, as you know, ain't a free ride. Gotham's been fun. The mayor's office is in disarray. But I think I've maximized my earning potential there."  
  
"Yeah, right." Lex sipped his wine. "I've read the Gotham Times. Commissioner Gordon's winning the war on organized crime, Bruce Wayne has mobilized his allies in Congress to push through a rock-solid anti- racketeering bill. Pretty soon, District Attorney Harvey Dent will be breathing down your neck ... seizing your assets ... shutting down your bordellos ..." He finished off his glass. "The way I see it, you need my help more than I need yours. You're right. Metropolis is Luthor territory. I call the shots here."  
  
"A big shot, eh." Thorne called over Mackenzie, who promptly put on a pair of shiny brass knuckles.  
  
"You won't harm me," Lex barely flinched. "I have something you need. Let's see ... you want me to ease your entry into Metropolis. Legitimize your outfit, smooth over permits for your strip clubs, preferential leases for your properties. And no questions asked."  
  
Thorne clapped his hands loudly. "You do that, Mr. Luthor, and you'll have an army of workers to do your canvassing, recruiting, fundraising ... in the event you do seek out, say, a spot in the state assembly? The governor's office? The Senate?"  
  
"We understand each other perfectly." Lex placed a $100 bill on the table. "A round for your boys. On me."  
  
He went over to Thorne again. "Don't even think of screwing me over. If you think Mr. Wayne gave you a hard time in Gotham, you can expect far worse here if you choose to make me an enemy. Stick to your end of the deal ... and we're both happy."  
  
Mackenzie rubbed his brass knuckles, but Lex brushed past him. "You should put your toys away. You might hurt yourself."  
  
He took a deep breath outside the hotel. I need to take a long, hot shower.  
  
I feel dirty.  
  
[Metropolis City Hall]  
  
"Councillor von Hutton, let me get this straight. You oppose the redevelopment proposal?"  
  
"Yes, Clark, I do. I'm not going to give Luthor Corp. a blank cheque to turn city-owned property into a playground for his boarding school buddies and business partners!"  
  
von Hutton was a swing vote in the Council. As a 20-year veteran of municipal politics, she could persuade many councillors to see things her way.  
  
"Polls suggest that two-thirds of the city's residents support the proposed Olympic bid," Clark continued, "but you still insist that it's bad for Metropolis? Why is that?"  
  
"We have highways littered with potholes, a transit system stretched to the limits and a weakening social support network. We have better things to do with the taxpayers' money that entertain IOC delegates."  
  
An aide tapped her door and peeked from behind the door. "Excuse me. Ms. Von Hutton? Council is ready to vote on the budget."  
  
The councillor extended her hand. "I'm afraid I'll have to cut this interview short, Mr. Kent. You're ... a friend of Lex Luthor, I hear."  
  
"Well, yes. He wants to revitalize the city. I know his approach ruffles feathers in city hall, but he only wants what's best for Metropolis."  
  
von Hutton's eyebrow arched warily. "Are you a reporter or actually his press agent? If I were you, I'd take Lex's grandiose vision with a grain of salt. I knew Lionel Luthor. He rarely showed interest in the well-being of the ordinary resident. If he did, it was because he was pursuing his own agenda. Lex and his investors stand to reap a fortune if the city wins the Olympics. Do you honestly think their profits will trickle down to those kids in the housing projects, to the single moms in the women's shelter? You can show yourself out."  
  
Clark shook his head. She doesn't know Lex. He's not like Lionel.  
  
When he stepped outside, a line of screaming Metro P.D. cruisers raced down the road. His cellphone rang.  
  
"Clark!" It was Perry White. "There's a gang shootout going down a few blocks from you. I can't seem to get in touch with Chloe. Get over there and find out what's going on!! The corner of 5th and Liberty Drive. Sonny's Bar and Grill."  
  
As he approached the intersection, he heard gunshots. He wriggled through the crowd of on-lookers.  
  
"Sorry, sir, please stay behind the yellow tape," an officer ordered. Clark showed his press ID and pulled out his notebook. "I'm with the Daily Planet. I was told there was a gang shooting."  
  
"One of the local hoods – the Street Posse – they double-crossed one of Thorne's associates on a drug shipment. They wiped the posse out. All of them!"  
  
"They?"  
  
The officer interrupted. "Units 2 and 3 on pursuit. Two perps at large." A police chopper zoomed overhead. "What was your question, Mr. Kent?"  
  
Clark was already gone. He raced past five city blocks, across a parking lot and over two bridges.  
  
I've overtaken them ... I hope. He soon spotted one of the Posse (he had the signature green bandana) limping towards him with a leg wound.  
  
"He's crazy!" The street tough was hysterical. "He shot my leg! Dammit, my leg!!"  
  
An immaculately dressed man sprinted towards them. He glared at Clark. "Step aside, sir. All I want is this little worm. I'll finish my business and be on my way." Clark saw a gloved hand reach for a gun. Sirens screeched in the distance. They'll never get here in time. Police roadblocks sealed the north end of the now-deserted avenue. We're trapped. The street tough was whimpering like a lost puppy. "Ya gotta help me, man. He'll kill me!"  
  
"Drop your weapon." Clark demanded. "You're one of Rupert Thorne's men, aren't you?"  
  
"You're in the wrong place," the gangster aimed, "at the wrong time." Clark heard a 'click!'  
  
He saw three bullets exit the gun's nozzle. The street tough would surely die. Clark shielded him with his back. His blazer was splattered with bullet holes. Clark got up and stared at the astonished gangster. "Bad move."  
  
Three more shots were fired. Clark's shirt was now ripped with bullet holes. He grabbed the gunman and tossed him across the street, into a dumpster. Clark jumped on top of it. "What the hell are you?! Please, don't kill me!!" the gangster begged.  
  
A dozen police cars surrounded the alleyway. The police chopper flooded the lane with a spotlight. Down the avenue, officers were already hauling the street thug into a P.D. van.  
  
"Nice work!" a detective slapped Clark's shoulder, "Although I don't know how you managed to get here before we did!"  
  
"I – uh – took some sidestreets. Shortcuts." I hope no one else saw what just happened, Clark feared.  
  
A block away, Chloe Sullivan's jaw dropped. Her camera kept snapping photos automatically. A diligent reporter, she had overheard radio reports about a shooting at the corner of 5th and Liberty. The sirens led her to this apparent showdown. She had gasped as the gunman fired the shots – point- blank – that would kill her old friend, Clark. There was no escape.  
  
But the shots didn't kill him. Clark seemed to absorb the three shots. He got up – not a trickle of blood. Another three shots and he still moved forward. The street was a wide avenue. Clark tossed the man across six lanes like a throw pillow.  
  
She had believed that Rupert Thorne's entry into the Metropolis underworld would be her career-making story. After what she just witnessed, the world of racketeering, drugs and prostitution paled in comparison. The Wall of Weird. All these years, under my nose. Clark Kent, you had a secret. And you didn't tell me. Or anyone. You know something ... about the meteor, about its dangers. Its powers. The inexplicable absences, the spur-of-the- moment excuses. You lied to me. You've been lying to me for years! What are you hiding?  
  
Clark lives in a one-bedroom studio in the east end. She hailed a cab. I'll see you there, old friend. I'll be waiting for an explanation. And it had better be damn good. 


	4. CH. 4

[Metropolis City Hall]  
  
The chairman pounded his gavel. "This session's adjourned for today. Let the record show that the council approved the budget by a vote of 32-17."  
  
Councillor von Hutton collected her files and exited the council chamber. Lex was waiting in the lobby.  
  
"Good afternoon, Mr. Luthor. And how is your father doing?"  
  
"Golfing in Scotland this month," Lex replied. "He's trying to work on his handicap. I think he has his mind set on that charity tournament in Florida next month."  
  
"I take it this is more than a social call," von Hutton remarked.  
  
"I understand that you will be voting against the mayor's redevelopment plans."  
  
"Plans that you and your developers helped to craft."  
  
Lex grinned. "It's not a grand conspiracy, councillor. I've seen the urban decay in Gotham City. We're only a few years away from going down that road. What I'm offering is a chance for Metropolis to take its rightful place beside New York, London, Rome, Sydney and the great cities of the world. You can be a part of that."  
  
von Hutton laughed. "I've survived a dozen elections without your money or connections. You have nothing to offer me."  
  
Lex reduced his voice to a whisper. "My allies on council tell me some interesting stories. The mayor's health is not as robust as it once was. It could be his last term. Sadly, he won't be around to open the Summer Olympics."  
  
"You're getting ahead of yourself, Lex. We haven't even voted on the Olympic bid yet."  
  
"The council respects you, Ms. von Hutton. On both the left and the right. You've done plenty for this city. Imagine what you could accomplish ... as Mayor of Metropolis. I'm prepared to give you considerable campaign finances, blanket coverage on LuthorMedia outlets and papers, you name it! As it stands now, you'll likely get the keys to the city as a token of your service. Why settle for that trinket, when you could be sitting in the mayor's chair after this election?!"  
  
"'All the kingdoms of the earth, if you would only kneel before me'," von Hutton scoffed. "You spin an intoxicating tale, Mr. Luthor. I'm in public service to serve others, not myself. What you're looking for ... is a patsy: a puppet who'll do your bidding. You forget, I've seen your father at work. You've learned your lessons, well, Lex. Lionel would be proud!" She quickened her pace to her office.  
  
Lex caught up with her. "So you're prepared to be a simple councillor, then. I'm giving you a chance at real power. You think the other charlatans in council will do better in the mayor's office? You can do some real good there ... and you're throwing it all away!"  
  
von Hutton spun around. "I know ... and one day, perhaps, I will run for higher office. But I'd rather settle for one of these dimwits as mayor, then compromise everything I've fought for. I won't vote for your plans. And I don't want to become mayor. Not at the price you're asking of me!" She slammed her office door.  
  
Lex swore. I've ticked her off. Now she'll be working to dismantle the redevelopment plan. Forming blocks of allies ... making deals with the moderates among the pro-business councillors. I can only count on the solid support of a third of the council. von Hutton will destroy my plans, effectively scuttling the Olympic bid.  
  
That's not going to happen. This is my city.  
  
He dialed his cell. "Oh, it's you. Mr. Brass Knuckles. Look, I don't have time for this. Tell Mr. Thorne I want him to do something for me. Yeah, that's right, Mackenzie. Someone on council's not being cooperative. Just tell him to call me."  
  
You've just made yourself an enemy, Ms. von Hutton. Count your blessings. If you're lucky, you'll still have those to hang onto.  
  
[Solitude Condominiums, Metropolis]  
  
Clark was exhausted. He gave Metro P.D. an account of the mobster's attempt to silence the Street Posse thug once and for all. The torn shirt came as a result of grappling with the gunman, he explained. He had wished that he wouldn't have to be a witness, but the time for regrets had passed. I saved a life. That's what Bruce would have done. And what I did. I can't wait to turn in for the night.  
  
He walked into the condo's lobby – and spotted Chloe.  
  
"Uhh, Chloe, I didn't see you at that shootout at Sonny's Grill. Perry sent me over. Guess that means we'll be working on a mob story together, eh?"  
  
"Clark, we need to talk," Chloe began. The security guard eyed them suspiciously. "In private."  
  
"Alright, if you want." They took the elevator to his bachelor's studio apartment. A kitchenette, a den, one bedroom, IKEA furniture, DVD player, stereo ... and exercise bike that apparently had never been used. Nothing out of the ordinary, Chloe observed.  
  
The Gotham Times rested on the coffee table.  
  
"Following up on the Rupert Thorne developments, I see." Chloe noted. "I always thought Metropolis could keep away the seedier elements that have turned Gotham City into an urban blight. I was wrong. Trouble always finds a way of catching up with us ... with you ..." She looked out the window and the soaring steel spires of Luthor Towers.  
  
"Sorry, Chloe, I'm – not following you," Clark buttoned up his blazer to hide his bullet-torn shirt.  
  
He's lying to my face, Chloe thought. How can he stand there – and pretend that I would never uncover his secret.  
  
"Some people wear masks around their co-workers, their friends – either because they can't trust them, or because they're hiding something."  
  
"Where's all this coming from, Chloe?!"  
  
Chloe spun around and slapped Clark in the face. "You liar! You goddamn liar!! We were good friends, all through our years in Smallville High. You had a secret and never told me!"  
  
"Secret?!" Clark tried to appear ignorant.  
  
"I was there!" Chloe pulled out her camera. "I have evidence. You were shot. You should have been hit. Three point-blank shots in the chest ... and you barely have a scratch! You tossed that gunman across six lanes without breaking a sweat. I saw everything!"  
  
"Chloe, let me explain..." Clark began. Dear god, she knows.  
  
"I followed the sirens ... figured I'd at least wrangle an interview with the mob squad detective, but as it turns out, I stumbled on a bigger story. You! How long have you had these abilities, these powers, Clark? Since high school? Since the day you were born?! Damn, why didn't I see it? Your emergency exits, forgotten errands, the fact that you seemed to be around many of those incidents with the green meteor.  
  
Or did you develop those powers gradually, with the help of ... Lex Luthor?!"  
  
"Lex doesn't know. He doesn't know I have these powers! Chloe, I never told you and the others ... because I wanted to protect you. Yes, I've had these powers since the day I was born. My mom and dad – they hid them from others to protect me."  
  
Chloe turned away. "Maybe I should visit Smallville. It's been awhile. Mrs. Kent and I have some things to discuss."  
  
Clark grabbed her arm. "Keep my mother out of this! She has nothing to do with this. I wanted to tell you. Of all the people I know, I wanted to tell you. You don't know how hard it was – to keep this secret. This curse. I wish I never had these powers, so I could be a normal person. But I have them."  
  
Chloe wiped a tear from his eye. "I thought we would be close. I know – it's partly my fault. I shoved you away, while I played reporter – competing with Lois. I thought I had found happiness with Jimmy. You and Pete knew better, didn't you?! And to learn that – all these years – you've been lying to me. I don't even know who you are anymore, Clark Kent!" She stared at the Metropolis skyline again. "I take it you never told Pete ... or Lana?"  
  
"No, none of them know. Only you," Clark replied. You – and someone else.  
  
Clark pulled out the GCPD report his friend from the shadows had provided. "My ... source at GCPD ... gave this to me. You want to take down the mob? This will be helpful. The hit on the D.A. was ordered by Thorne. The hitman's name is Mackenzie."  
  
"I suppose you won't give me the name of your contact in GCPD? Another secret you'll keep from me?"  
  
"I've sworn to never reveal his identity," Clark glanced at the Gotham paper. "I gave my word."  
  
"Oh, you gave your word, did you?" Chloe scoffed. "It's not worth much, as I see it! Why does this contact deserve your trust more than your friends?"  
  
I've been her punching bag for too long. I've lived with this secret. Who is she to pass judgment on something she can never understand? I've made my fate. "This contact was there for me ... all these years. Unlike you. Don't take yourself too seriously, Chloe! You're not beyond fault, either. You chose to push me away. You have your dream job, now. Congratulations, Ms. Sullivan, that's what you always wanted. In the process, you've put Pete and me on the sidelines. So now you can't count on your friends? You put that ball in motion, the moment you put your ambition ahead of our friendship."  
  
"And who are you to be lecturing me about friendship? Pete was your best friend. Now he's a thorn in the side of your real buddy, Lex! If anyone started alienating us ... it's you! You and your secret. Well, it's not a secret anymore. A power like that is dangerous. You're ... dangerous. By the evening edition of the Planet, the whole country will know how much of a danger you really are!" She marched out of the room.  
  
"No!" Clark ran after her. "You can't. If you go to press with this, the media will descend on Smallville like locusts. My mother's not well ... it would be traumatic for her. You want to hurt me by broadcasting my secret to the world, well that's up to you. Just don't hurt my mother along the way!"  
  
Chloe stopped. "Out of respect for your mother, I'll hold off on telling Perry for a day. You have one day. Get Martha out of there. Do what you must to protect her. By midnight tomorrow, all bets are off. Your dirty little secret's out. I'm not going to risk you hurting more people than you already have."  
  
"So ... this is it," Clark paced across the den, "The last charge of the Three Musketeers?! All for one, and one for all. What a crock. Pete knew it wasn't true. That's why he left Metropolis. You now have the story you always wanted. 'Clark, the meteor freak, a danger to America'. You now know my secret ... and without truly understanding why I kept it hidden ... you – you alone – can decide to expose it for the world to see. If our friendship meant anything – at all – you won't do this. My father fought his whole life to protect me. To hide my secret. He went to his deathbed ... never revealing my powers to a single soul. A man of his word. All my powers ... and I couldn't save him. Nothing you could do will hurt more than having to live with that knowledge. That I was helpless."  
  
Chloe looked up at him, trying to accept the reality. How little she really knew about Clark.  
  
"We're not in high school anymore, Chloe. We can't meet in the cafeteria and 'catch up'. We can't share our hopes and fears in the Torch office. That's life. We've grown apart ... and, yes, some of the blame rests with me. I'll admit it: I've been less than honest. Is that what you want to hear?! After all we've been through, I'd like to still call you a friend, even if we're not the best of friends. I'm asking you as a friend – please, don't go to the press with this. If you still can't understand that, well, do whatever it is you do to rationalize it in your head. Jonathan Kent would call it betrayal. And so do I."  
  
"Clark, you bastard!" Chloe tried to retain her composure. "You have one day, that's all. Then ... let the chips fall where they may. I'm sorry if this means our friendship is history, but I have my job to do. I won't let Lex, or people like him, harness your abilities for their own ends. The public needs to know." She slammed the door.  
  
Clark dashed to the phone. "Mom?!"  
  
"Clark? It's good to hear your voice!"  
  
"Get your things packed. Chloe knows. Everything!"  
  
"No, that can't be!" Martha gasped.  
  
"Pack your bags. I'm sending you out of town. At least until this blows over."  
  
"This is my home. Jonathan would never run from a fight."  
  
"Mom ... please ... I can't bear to think about who or what will be coming into town once the news breaks out. Please, at least for a couple of days ..."  
  
"Okay, Clark. But only for a few days. Then I'm coming back." Martha looked at the photo of Jonathan and Clark, 12 years ago. I don't believe it. Chloe was as close as a daughter. Now she's going destroy it all. She knew this day might come. And she knew what to do.  
  
Jonathan had made her promise to protect Clark. At least he had one friend he could count on.  
  
She dialed the phone.  
  
"Yes, Mr. Pennyworth. Tell Bruce the secret's out. I trust he knows what to do."  
  
"Yes," Alfred said. "He knows what to do." We knew it could happen, but not this soon. When Bruce enters the night, I cannot guarantee that I'll be able to rein him in. I can only pray that he will do what's right for Clark. And for himself.  
  
God help them. God help them all. 


	5. CH. 5 (NEW!)

[Solitude Condominiums]  
  
Clark stood atop the building roof. Luthor Towers glowed in the purple glow of the floodlights. A regal colour. A testament to the Luthors' success.  
  
Lex has shown some poor judgment of late, but he's always remembered who his friends are. Pete never liked him since he first arrived in Smallville. Like most people, he based his animosity on the past deeds of Lionel Luthor. That doesn't necessarily mean Lex will follow the road Lionel has chosen: the exploitation of the weak, the ruthless pursuit for wealth and status. I hear Lionel is petitioning the British government to make him into a lord. Lord Lionel. How typical!  
  
"Worried about your 'friend', Clark?" the figure from the night muttered.  
  
"Look, Bruce, you don't know Lex. Not the way I do!"  
  
"I'm not about have this argument again," Bruce stated, "You know where I stand on the Luthors. Lex is egomaniacal. And he possesses the resources to indulge his appetites. Power: that's all he wants." Clark walked away, but Bruce held his arm.  
  
"Time is running out. Chloe is about to blow the whistle on your powers. If Lex hears of it, all my abilities may not be able to restrain him."  
  
Clark stared in disbelief. "How did you - well, yes. I have 24 hours to get my mom out of Smallville before the media swarms her."  
  
"She's safe?"  
  
"She's visiting a college friend in Fawcett City - at least that's what her cover story is."  
  
"And what about you?" Bruce tapped nervously on his utility belt.  
  
"I don't know, I really don't. I just came up here to clear my head. My whole world is crumbling around me. My friend is about to betray my secret to the world. I'm beginning to wonder if I made the right decision - to keep my powers a secret."  
  
"You made the right decision. Even now, you're only starting to grasp the full potential of your abilities. How can you explain something you cannot even understand?!"  
  
"I should have told Chloe. Graduation night at Smallville. Perhaps ..." Clark's mind raced. Beyond his present crisis, to simpler days. Smallville High. My father told me not to go through with it.  
  
"No!! I forbid it, Clark! I can understand your anxiety. You're finished high school. You want to stretch your wings. Telling Chloe everything about you ... how you landed with the meteor shower ... your powers ... it's too soon."  
  
"No, dad. I've spent my whole life living a lie. I'm not normal. I'll never be. Chloe's leaving for Metropolis next week for her summer job at the Planet. I'm telling her. Now." Clark jumped into his truck.  
  
Jonathan didn't want this. Chloe was Clark's close friend, but she was rather too inquisitive in Jonathan's eyes. "No, Clark! It's a mistake. Don't!!" He tried to catch up to the truck, but it was too late.  
  
Martha stormed into the barn. "Dammit, he's gone! Are you going to do something about this?"  
  
"You and Mr. Kent are right. It is too soon. Too dangerous to let his secret out. I'll stop him. I swear." Bruce hopped onto his motorcycle and chased after Clark. He cut through a corn field and a meadow. If I can just get to the main street before he does. At the intersection, he saw Clark's truck zoom towards him. Just a little closer. POP! The spikes on the road worked. Clark's truck spun around, tumbling into the ditch.  
  
Bruce yanked Clark out of the truck. "Clark, snap out of this delusion. It's too soon to tell. Anyone!"  
  
Clark barked back. "Not even Chloe, my friend all these years. I agreed to let you be my mentor. Help me train. Focus my abilities. That doesn't give you the right to run my life."  
  
Bruce frowned. "You don't get it. You're still young and naive. You're too impulsive! There are people who will use that against you. They'll use it to destroy you. Your family. Look at me." Clark pushed Bruce aside, flinging him several feet away. Bruce leaped on Clark's back, and held his face tightly.  
  
"Look at me, Clark Kent! Can you look at me and say, honestly, that you're prepared to take on the fallout of your secret? Can you say - with certainty - that Chloe won't spill your secret. She'll be at the Planet, where a story like this can launch a reporter's career. Tell me you're prepared to face all the consequences, and I'll personally drive you to Chloe's house." He shook Clark. "Tell me!!"  
  
Clark was afraid. He hadn't seen such rage in Bruce, even during their training sessions. Rage ... or fear. Fear at what might happen once I achieved my full potential. But he was right. Too many uncertainties. Chloe, even if I made her swear to keep quiet, was already starting to trace the connection between the green meteor, the weird events in town ... and me. I knew. She could not be trusted with a secret so intoxicating. So dangerous. Bruce loosened his chokehold and stood up.  
  
Clark pounded the ground. "I hate this. I hate my powers. I just want to be normal. That's all. Clark Kent, high school grad. Not Clark, the freak."  
  
Bruce sighed. I did it. I stopped him from destroying his life before it even truly began. Chloe would not know the secret then.  
  
Now she does.  
  
Atop the condo, Clark glared at his former mentor. "You! You told me not to tell Chloe. It was the right thing to do, you said. Look at my life now. My father is dead ... and I was powerless to stop that. I lost my friends. And if I'm not careful, my career could fail at any moment. Oh wait, now that Chloe is going to tell Perry everything, my career is already over. Yeah, Bruce, your guidance sure has saved me from a lot of anguish."  
  
"You coward," Bruce declared. "I gave you the tools, the discipline to accept your identity, harness your abilities. I gave your parents my word to guide and protect you. I mourned your father's passing. I promised him to watch over you, even when he couldn't. I know what it's like to be helpless. We can't control everything life throws at us. Even you."  
  
"Chloe and I could have been great friends. More than that. Now she's turned on me, too." Clark clenched his fists.  
  
"I'm sorry you couldn't work things out with Chloe and your friends. You made choices. It costs you some friends. Live with it. It happens -- that's life. We all must take responsibility for the actions we take."  
  
"No!" Clark charged at Bruce. "It was you all along. If not for you, my life could have been different. Better!" He started to wrestle clumsily with his shrouded friend. Bruce instinctly disengaged, and stabbed a boot into Clark's feet. He lost balance, but immediately clutched Bruce in a bear hug.  
  
"I wanted to come clean with my friends. You stopped me. Your training, lectures, preaching ... for what? So I can be your sparring partner!" He flung Bruce across the roof.  
  
Bruce tumbled over the edge of the roof, barely grasping onto the ledge with his gloved hand. He pulled himself up. A few more blows were exchanged. In a test of pure strength and endurance, Clark was already his superior. His fighting technique lacked finesse, but what he lacked in grace was compensated by his immense strength. Clark reacts to the moment. His vision, his reflexes are better than mine. He did not plan to confront me.  
  
I, however, plan for the future. I knew he could turn against me ... sometime. Now he'll learn the consequences of that move.  
  
Bruce flipped open a capsule in his utility belt. Clark stared in fear.  
  
"The meteor!!" Clark clutched his chest. His strength was already fading away.  
  
"In tomorrow's Planet," Bruce stated, "you'll read about STAR Labs. It seems one of Lex's meteor samples have disappeared. I made it disappear."  
  
Clark struggled to his feet, but Bruce came closer with the green meteor chunk.  
  
"What kind of fool do you take me for? I knew - from the start - that you could be my strongest ally. Or greatest foe. I must be prepared for either situation." He pulled out a tape recorder. "I want you to listen to this. The FBI have been monitoring Lex's meetings with a new business associate."  
  
Clark heard the pulsing sound of dance music:  
  
"Nice club!" It was Lex.  
  
"Thanks to you, I now have the finest adult entertainment parlour in the city. 200 dancers ..." Was that Rupert Thorne?  
  
"And no questions asked. Now about my 'situation' with Councillor von Hutton ..."  
  
"Ah, the little lady causing trouble for you, Lex? Her brother owns a delicatessen in the market district. We can make him pay up some protection money. That, or we firebomb his business. That'll make your councillor think twice about challenging your projects ..."  
  
"Good news, good news! Sorry, miss, I'm only here for business, not pleasure."  
  
"Are you sure, Mr. Luthor. Brandy is a headliner."  
  
"No, thanks. I must be -"  
  
Clark writhed in pain. "Turn it off!"  
  
Bruce knelt beside him. "I need to know - now - where you stand."  
  
"That - that couldn't have been Lex! He's a businessman, not a crime lord."  
  
"Yes," Bruce replied, "and all good businessmen leave their laundry for the hired help. In this case, Rupert Thorne, Gotham's top mob boss. Did I mention that WayneComm is buying a dozen radio stations across America. We've just inked a deal ... with Pete Ross. He's going to be syndicated coast-to-coast. I'm sending him this tape. He'll have one helluva nationwide launch. Lex Luthor is going down. Nothing you do will change that now. Back to my question: I want to know who's side you're on."  
  
"Lex is my friend. He's not ... evil ..." Clark coughed.  
  
"This evidence proves otherwise. If you're still going to stick with Luthor and his hollow promises, I'll simply duct tape this meteor around your chest and finish you off here. An all-powerful Clark Kent in Lex's corner is a partnership I cannot allow to exist. For the last time, who's ... side ... are ... you ... on?!?!!"  
  
Clark was drifting into unconsciousness. Lex, how could you? I trusted you. I gave up friends, family ... to defend you. How could you? How could you do this to me?! You were my friend. I would have done anything to help you. Why??? I believed that I could separate my work from my friendship with Lex. Perry White warned me about the potential for conflict-of-interest. I ignored his advice. 'I can keep a level head,' I told myself, 'Lex won't use me'. If he actually ASKED the mob to intimidate von Hutton ... or worse ... I'm a fool. A stupid fool.  
  
"Bruce, ... don't" Clark gasped. "I'm on your s-side. Your side. Bruce!! Please!"  
  
Bruce slipped the rock into his utility belt. "Dammit, Clark, that's all I wanted to know." He helped Clark to his feet. "That was a test. You passed. I only hope you don't start to kick my ass again when your strength returns."  
  
"No, I won't" Clark laughed weakly. "But in our next training session, expect to get roughed up. Now about Chloe ..."  
  
"I'll talk to her."  
  
Clark was puzzled. "She's not impressed by your 'dark knight' routine. She thinks you're no better than those subway vigilantes in the news."  
  
"Don't worry. I can be - persuasive." He jumped over the roof and vanished.  
  
That cape is ridiculous, Clark remarked. Who does he think he is, Darth Vader?  
  
[Chloe's townhouse, Metropolis' upper west side]  
  
Chloe opened the dusty box. The old clippings and photographs from the Wall of Weird. All these years, she thought, and I still hung onto them. In the event I could use them someday.  
  
That day has come. I'll be able to trace all the events - from the meteor shower, the strange and bizarre Smallville ... to Clark Kent. Did the meteor affect him differently than the others?  
  
She yanked out her notebook. Furiously, she scribbled notes. Crude flowcharts, timelines. Whatever I can remember. With this evidence, I can finally break the mystery of the green meteor.  
  
And destroy a friend.  
  
He begged me not to go to the press. He lost the right to demand my confidence ... a long time ago. And his friendship with Lex Luthor. Is there more to it than a friendship. Has Lex always known about Clark's abilities? Now that he's in control of Luthor Corp., he can do anything he wants. Clark will be a mere pawn. A tool for Luthor's schemes.  
  
That's why I have to do this, Clark. We were the best of friends, once. How things fell apart since Smallville ... well, I made some mistakes. So did you. Standing by Lex Luthor was your biggest mistake.  
  
As she emptied the box, another photo fell out. Graduation night. Clark, Lana, Pete and Chloe - beaming, with their diplomas in hand. We had such dreams. Poor Lana. I think her world fell apart much sooner than the rest of us. She was never the same after Whitney's death. And Pete ... it was no fault of his own. He, more than anyone, deserved better. As we focused on our careers, we tossed him aside,. She looked closer at the picture. Clark's arm around her shoulder. Best of friends. "That was a long time ago," Chloe mumbled.  
  
"And now, you're prepared to throw away even those memories, all for the sake of what you perceive as 'the truth'," a voice stated.  
  
Chloe turned around. The balcony window was now open. When she turned back, the legendary dark knight of Gotham towered before her.  
  
"So the rumours weren't rumours after all," Chloe noted. "The vigilante of Gotham City."  
  
"I prefer 'guardian'", Bruce replied.  
  
"I could call the police," Chloe challenged.  
  
"That won't solve anything. I'm here on behalf of a friend."  
  
Chloe glanced at the pile of clippings and photos. "Clark? You must be the so-called 'contact' that Clark swore never to reveal. How is it you have his confidence when none of his high school friends do?"  
  
"You would never understand."  
  
"Try me! Why are you here in Metropolis? Are you hunting Rupert Thorne? Bringing your cowboy justice to our streets?"  
  
"I'm not here for an interview. I'm asking you not to destroy a friend. You blow the whistle on his secret, you're opening a Pandora's box of problems."  
  
"The way I see it," Chloe scribbled in her notebook, "if I don't tell the people, Clark's secret could come back to haunt us all. His power - it's too dangerous."  
  
"He won't be a danger," Bruce insisted, "I'll ensure that."  
  
"So I'm supposed to take the word of some street vigilante who doesn't even have the courage to show his face. Your time's up. I'm calling the police."  
  
Bruce yanked the phone cord from its socket. "You should think twice about who you call a coward. Here you are plotting the biggest story of your career ... and you don't even want to know the reason why he never told you. Did you know that he wanted - he WANTED - to tell you. That graduation night! I stopped him. At the time, I felt you couldn't be trusted with such a secret. Clark agreed with me. It appears you're proving me right."  
  
Chloe scowled at him. "Go to hell! If he told me that he has these powers, I wouldn't have told a soul. Back then, we were close friends. But along the way, he - I - made choices. I pushed him away. He remained loyal to that lizard, Lex. I can't rewrite the past."  
  
"But you can shape the future, Chloe. If you tell the world about Clark's abilities, you're inviting every lowlife, terrorist, mobster, spy and corporate tycoon to go after him. Then no one's safe. If Lex uses his friendship with Clark to abuse those special abilities ... it'll be no longer just Clark's problem. It'll be mine ... and the rest of the world's. Are you prepared to accept responsibility for the fallout from your story?"  
  
"So you're saying I'm damned if I do, and damned if I don't. I tell the world about Clark, the Super Man from Smallville, I make him a target. I keep his secret ... and those same criminals and corporate types can find ways to manipulate him - without the public's knowledge!"  
  
"That won't happen. If I've kept his secret for this long, so can you. No one will be investigating him if they don't know ANYTHING about him."  
  
"And if I reject your argument and go to press with my findings ... ?"  
  
"Then ... you're no longer absolved from the consequences of your revelations. You're putting the city, the country ... at risk. Lose the ego and think of what's best for the citizens you profess to serve!"  
  
"I'll save the country by keeping the secret?! God, that sounds sooo melodramatic." Chloe continued to sketch out what would likely be the front page of the Daily Planet in 24 hours.  
  
"Not buying the patriotic argument, then? How's this for an ultimatum: You tell the world about Clark's powers, you signal to Lex Luthor and his labs that Clark is fair game. Lex uses Clark's friendship to study those powers - supposedly in the interests of helping him. Lex uses this knowledge to further his schemes: military technology, bio-weapons, genetic engineering. Clark would become a hapless patsy of Luthor Corp. If he resists - and I hope he would - Lex could simply use his knowledge to subdue Clark. Or kill him, once he outlived his usefulness. I won't let it get to that stage. If I sense that Clark has sided with Lex, or allowed his abilities to be used to harm others, I will do what I have to, to stop that."  
  
Chloe gaped in horror. "You - his so-called ally - would kill him? How can you? You know yourself: he's invincible! No bullets, nothing can hurt him."  
  
"STAR Labs have been researching meteor showers on behalf on NASA. At least that's their cover story. They managed to collect about a dozen samples of your mysterious green meteor. As of tomorrow morning, when the technicians conduct their routine inventory, they'll find that one sample is missing. I have that sample. And I know how to use it."  
  
"That's absurd. You're saying the meteor can harm Clark. Clark likely got his powers from that meteor, somehow."  
  
Bruce marched to the balcony window. "I don't have time to debate the finer points of ethics in journalism. Look, a good reporter only runs with a story if she has all the facts. You don't have them. I suggest that you re- assess why you want to publish this story. If it's because you're mad at him, grow up! This isn't the Torch. You're toying with people's lives! You gave Clark 24 hours' grace. I'm giving you those same 24 hours. If you choose to expose his secret tomorrow, then I can't prevent what others do with that knowledge. And what I must do." The blinds fluttered as the dark knight slipped into the Metropolis night.  
  
Chloe continued her scribbling. Keep the secret, or tell the world? I'm confused. I was sure I was on the right track. Now can I honestly say that? The truth. I don't even know what that is right now!  
  
Damn him. He's logical - in his take-no-prisoners, crusading sort of way. She dialed the phone. Maybe Lois Lane can help ... No! She hung up the phone. The only person who's going to run with this story - or kill it - is me.  
  
She focused on the graduation photo. Clark Kent. Why? Why didn't you tell me?! She wanted to believe that she could be trusted. That she would have kept his secret.  
  
She looked out across the flickering lights of the city. In her heart, she knew the answer.  
  
And she didn't like it.  
  
I would have kept the secret at first, but I would see him in a different light. All his quirks would be explained. The unpredictable powers. The risk of Clark harming someone accidentally. And the friendship with Lex - I know that I could never accept the chance that Lex would use Clark for his own ends. I would have to tell. The police, the press, the university ... someone.  
  
I was younger then. So idealistic. So certain of my concept of the world. I would have betrayed him then. My teenage naivete would have ruined our friendship. But it's already ruined, isn't it?  
  
You're right, Clark. I couldn't be trusted then. Chloe rubbed her forehead. Then. Do I betray him now? As a star reporter on the Planet, I could destroy his life in 500 words. Or say nothing ... and watch as Clark - willing or not - became a force for destruction.  
  
The GCPD file rested on the couch. With those files, I could strike a blow against the Gotham mob's expansionist plans. If Thorne indeed ordered the hit on the D.A., the feds could bring up capital charges against him.  
  
Destroy the mob, or destroy a friend ... who has the power to destroy the country.  
  
I don't know. 


	6. CH. 6 (NEW!)

[Metropolis City Hall, the next morning]  
  
Councillor von Hutton brushed past the growing cohort of reporters and locked herself in her office. Metro P.D. just released news about her brother.  
  
Clark walked through the entrance. "I just arrived. What's going on?"  
  
"Late to the party, Mr. Kent?" a reporter from the Metropolis Journal inquired, "The cops just issued this." He handed Clark a copy of the press release.  
  
'George von Hutton, of George's Deli, was assaulted outside his shop last night as he was about to close for the evening. No witnesses have come forward, but police are canvassing the surrounding businesses. He is reported to be in fair condition and his injuries are not life threatening ..."  
  
"I wouldn't be surprised if that mobster Thorne is trying to send a message to city council," the Journal reporter remarked.  
  
Clark stared at the press release in disbelief. Now he's done it. Lex has entered into a conspiracy with organized crime. From what Bruce has told me, Rupert Thorne is not a man to tangle with. And the hitman Mackenzie: his rap sheet reads like a season of The Sopranos. Extortion, drug trafficking, attempted murder. Not to mention that the feds suspect his involvement in the Metropolis D.A. hit.  
  
All these years, I was confident that Lex knew that some lines should never be crossed. At least Lionel Luthor made no attempt to hide his ruthlessness. His hands are dirty with influence-peddling, backroom conspiracies with his buddies in Congress, shady links to the Russian mob. I believed Lex was above those schemes. His character - I was sure - was flawed, but not immoral.  
  
One so-called friend is about to betray me. Chloe has her job to do. I realized that, even since our college days. She'll pursue what she sees as the truth. The cost this time is my fate.  
  
My destiny. Bruce told me that, one day, he won't be hovering around me. Giving me advice. He's been at this hero-of-the-night routine for a few years now. To defend justice, he's had to bend the rules: conceal, deceive, and intimidate. The authorities don't necessarily approve of his methods. He knows the pitfalls.  
  
"You know what to do," Bruce had answered during one of their training sessions, "When the time comes, you'll step up to the plate. Stay focused. Be your own person. I've cut ties with most of my friends - believing that they'd expose my weaknesses, or put themselves at risk by mere association. It's not a good life to lead, but I've made that choice. My choices don't have to be yours. You're a reporter. Use that power -- that access - to do good."  
  
"But what if I mess up? People could get hurt." Clark had replied.  
  
"Get up, dust yourself off, and continue. This life is not for the uncommitted. If you second-guess every decision that you make, you won't be able to help anyone. You have to want this. If you have doubts, you'd better not step onto the field."  
  
Clark crumpled the press release and tossed it into the trash. If Lex has gone to bed with the mob, he's crossed the line. I trusted him. Placed my faith in him. The things I've said to Pete, Chloe ... my father. I said they were wrong, they didn't know Lex. Only I knew him so well ...  
  
I could have stopped him. Back in Smallville, when he was vulnerable. I'm going to be betrayed again by another friend. Lex Luthor. It's not enough just to expose this mob conspiracy. The GCPD report! If Chloe connects the dots between the D.A. hit and Thorne, Lex' reputation will be harmed. We can't take anything from a man who has everything. His reputation - soiled as it is - is something even he can't buy.  
  
If Chloe runs with the mob story, it'll be more than Lex's influence- peddling in the headlines. His own integrity will be put into question - whether or not the feds can pin conspiracy charges on him. Perception can be more important that reality. Of course, there are consequences. We'd destroy the redevelopment plan and likely ruin our Olympic chances. von Hutton has a point. None of that is worth the price we'd have to pay.  
  
I've sold out my friends and family in Luthor's name for too long. That changes.  
  
Today.  
  
"Clark, do you have any idea where Lex is?" Lois tapped him on the shoulder. "His office called the Planet to cancel his interview with our editorial board."  
  
"I don't know where he is," Clark shrugged. "I guess he has business to deal with."  
  
"It's just odd," Lois replied, "Council is expected to vote on the redevelopment plan by week's end. I figured he wanted to tell his side of the story."  
  
Clark's mind wandered. Chloe, what are doing right now? Writing the story that will ruin me, or remembering how we used to be so close. That's all I can count on - that you'll remember our friendship in Smallville. You have the GCPD report. You can wipe out Thorne and ram a stake through Lex Luthor's reputation. That story would certainly put her on an even level with Lois.  
  
But my story ... the meteor boy from Smallville who can't be stopped ... that would launch her career into the stratosphere. I'm afraid of her determination.  
  
I know I'm being selfish, but I hope she chooses to crucify the mob (and Lex) instead of me. She exposes me ... and god knows what happens then.  
  
[The Orchid Gentlemen's Club, the city's west side]  
  
A dozen Metro P.D. squad cars, two paddywagons and a pair of unmarked sedans screeched around the curb and into the club parking lot. The lunch hour crowd was already there, catching the first show.  
  
A bouncer in a red bowtie tried to prevent them from entering. "Do you have a search warrant?" An officer ordered him to turn around, then frisked him for weapons. "A 9mm Glock automatic, eh? Thompson, run this guy's ID. I'd be curious if he's licensed to carry this!"  
  
A detective pushed open the main door. Some patrons tried to flee, perhaps unaware that there were officers at every entrance.  
  
"Where's Rupert Thorne?" Detective Reynolds demanded. In the rear, some officers were rounding up the customers, staff and 'entertainers'.  
  
"This place is licensed. You got nothin' on this place!" the bartender insisted.  
  
Chloe walked into the smoky room. "Success?"  
  
The detective shook his head. "I figured he might be here for the 'grand opening'. Now if someone in here wants to be cooperative, maybe I won't let the vice squad shut this place down and charge you all with keeping a common bawdy house!"  
  
The bartender spotted Chloe interviewing one of the officers. "It's you! You brought the heat down on us!" He moved forward, as some of the bouncers tried to restrain him. "Mr. Thorne don't like rats! Your number's up, missy!" He aimed his finger at her, pretending to fire.  
  
You're busted, Detective Reynolds thought. "You just uttered a death threat, buddy. Book him." Half a dozen officers shoved aside the bouncers and handcuffed the bartender.  
  
"So I guess you'll do the good cop-bad cop thing until the bartender sings?" Chloe asked.  
  
The detective scratched his head. "Maybe. I doubt he knows much, other than the rumours he hears from the street. He's right though. Thorne hates 'rats', and I don't think the bartender wants to be one." He took Chloe aside. "What I'm worried about is the threat he made."  
  
"I'm not concerned," Chloe stated, "he's just some punk trying to look tough in front of Thorne's boys."  
  
"Rupert Thorne is not a man to cross," the detective argued, "I know that witnesses claimed the D.A.'s gunman wore the colours of the Outriders biker gang, but I've gone over the forensics reports, the autopsy reports ... The D.A. took three slugs. Two in the back. One in the head. Biker killings usually occur when a deal's gone sour, there's a turf war between another rival, or if someone in their ranks squealed. Sloppy things. Their modus operandi are usually homemade car bombs. The D.A. hit ... it had the markings of a professional. Someone who knew his job - and how to disappear without a trail."  
  
Chloe recalled the GCPD report. Two years ago, a GCPD vice squad detective was gunned down. It appeared to be the work of some Gotham gang. But that detective was also shot three times. The organized crime unit issued a report saying that evidence likely points the finger at the mob. It listed several of Thorne's known 'associates'. One stood out. Mackenzie. A bouncer from Atlantic City who rose through the ranks. Weapons violations. Charged with aggravated assault in 1999, but somehow walked on a technicality. It was his stint with some militia outfit in Kentucky that stood out.  
  
Things aren't always what they appear - as I've seen over the past few days, Chloe told herself. "I think you've clarified things for me. Thanks." She closed her notebook and put on her jacket.  
  
"Ms. Sullivan, if you're heading downtown, we could give you a police escort," the detective offered.  
  
"I'm fine. I'm not going to let Thorne and his goons make me second-guess the way I do my job." Chloe hopped into her car and drove off.  
  
The detective was getting tired of the mob activity lately. The D.A. hit made most of the officers a little nervous as they continued Operation Stonewall: their plan to keep Gotham's mob out of the city.  
  
"The Orchid is closed for today, ladies 'n gents," the detective announced. "I'm leaving my cards here on the bar. I don't get a call from one of you - tonight - about where I can find Thorne, I'll turn loose the vice squad ... and you'll have to find yourselves new careers. That's my only warning."  
  
Chloe Sullivan already got her warning from Thorne. It's no rumour. She's marked. I hope she realizes that. We'd better step up police visibility around the Daily Planet building.  
  
[First National Plaza, downtown Metropolis]  
  
"Make sure you wire that floor by today," the foreman pointed at the 22nd floor. In two years, First National Bank would have its own high-profile skyscraper, flanked by Luthor Towers and the esteemed Daily Planet.  
  
"Gotcha. I'll have done my job by then," the electrician nodded. He stepped into the freight elevator with his case of equipment. Only the first ten floors were complete. The 22nd floor was exposed. There was a clear view of the Daily Planet's globe logo at the main entrance. Some of the staff were eating lunch in the courtyard. The water fountain in the centre - it would have blocked the view of the main doors - was under repair. Good  
  
The electrician was only here for one job ... and it wasn't to wire the floor for lighting. Mackenzie lowered the brim of his construction hat. I don't like rush jobs. But word is ... Thorne has already jumped from this town. The feds are closing in. But he still wants Sullivan out of the picture. I'd have split town too, but I gotta contract to complete. Fifty thousand bucks is easy money.  
  
Mr. Thorne likes work to be finished. Finished. Better make your next story a good one, Miss Crime Reporter. They'll be looking for your replacement tomorrow... 


	7. CH. 7 (NEW!)

[STAR Labs, a division of Luthor Corp., 11:10 a.m.]  
  
Lex supervised the installation of new security cameras throughout the STAR Labs plant. A non-descript concrete bunker-like building in Metropolis' east side, the plant was heavily fortified. Barbed wire-tipped fences, guard dogs and an armed security force with the authority to use lethal force. Yet, somehow, someone broke into the plant, evaded heat-sensitive sensors, eluded a dozen guard dogs and penetrated the secretive Lab #5.  
  
It was secretive because that was where STAR Labs scientists performed experiments with the infamous Smallville green meteor. As of this morning, a sample was missing.  
  
Who could have taken it? Luthor Corp. had battled the U.S. government in court for the right to possess those samples. I've heard the rumours: CIA agents and British MI6 operatives have joined STAR Labs staff ... to gain access to the mysterious meteor.  
  
Could it have been Rupert Thorne? Is this a mob message: a demonstration of his formidable powers in the underworld? Possible, but not even the well- connected Gotham mafia would know about my research here.  
  
"Marnie, I want you to do a thorough reference check on all STAR Labs personnel," he ordered on his cell phone. "The thief must have an inside contact."  
  
The plant's chief of security handed him his letter of resignation - promptly at 9 a.m. He expected that he would be fired for the theft of the meteor sample. Lex smirked. Wise decision, because I would have canned his ass if he didn't resign.  
  
He peered through the second-floor office blinds. The hastily arranged news conference put the public's fears at ease. There was a security breach, the Luthor Corp. spokesman admitted, but there was no threat to the public. As a courtesy, Lex called Metro P.D. personally to reassure them that the intruder stole "nothing of substance" from STAR Labs.  
  
When the last of the Live Eye trucks left the STAR Labs parking lot, Lex stepped outside and sat on a bench in the employee parkette. The loss of the meteor was a problem, but nothing that couldn't be fixed. He was more concerned about the Inquisitor's trashy headline today: 'THE MOB MANHANDLES COUNCILLOR'S BRO ... DID LUTHOR ORDER THE ATTACK?!'  
  
On the horizon, he saw Clark Kent walking towards him. Hmm, Lex thought, perhaps the Daily Planet can cast me in a better light ... before the mob story gets out of hand.  
  
"Clark? You just missed the press conference. The Planet's technology reporter got the scoop, I'm afraid. Not much to tell, really. Between you and I, I think it was an inside job."  
  
"Really," Clark stated. He knew exactly who stole the sample. The only one with the skills and training to succeed in such a daring theft. Bruce ... in his night shift role as the caped crusader.  
  
"Lex, I'm actually here to talk to you. I need to know. The truth," Clark demanded.  
  
"The truth about what?" Lex wondered.  
  
"The attack on Councillor von Hutton's brother. It was a mob attack, wasn't it?"  
  
Lex tried to avoid Clark's glare. "Look at me and tell me you're not involved with Rupert Thorne!" Clark raised his voice.  
  
"No," Lex stated. "I don't know what Chloe or Lois have been telling you, but I have never met with Thorne - or counseled him to intimidate anyone at city hall."  
  
"Did you know that Pete Ross' radio talk show is going national," Clark explained.  
  
Lex raised an eyebrow. "That's the first I've heard of it, Clark."  
  
"Bruce Wayne is launching a talk radio network across the country. Pete is going to be the network's headliner!" Clark sat beside his friend. Still a friend, at least for this morning. "Lex, he knows everything. He has a tape of you and Rupert Thorne plotting to intimidate the councillor into siding with your redevelopment plan!"  
  
Lex buried his head in his hands. "No ... no, no, no! How did he do it? Pete has a friend with the FBI? Or was it ... damn! Bruce Wayne, that son of a bitch! Didn't I tell you he couldn't be relied on for anything. He'll do whatever it takes to destroy my family!"  
  
"No, Lex," Clark interrupted, "you destroyed yourself. I'd like to see Metropolis become a great city, just like you ... but not at the expense of the public good."  
  
"But unlike you," Lex snapped back, "I have the means and the power to make the city great. You think those fools in city hall have the vision to save Metropolis from becoming another Gotham City? I won't let that happen! Not in my city!"  
  
"The city doesn't belong to you, Lex! It never did! Suppose you do win the redevelopment contracts. And maybe the city does win the Olympic bid. Can you live with that - knowing that you reached those heights by standing on Rupert Thorne's shoulders?"  
  
Lex could barely restrain his temper, but he bit his lip. Clark is turning on me! How dare he? After all I've done for him ... his family! Stay focused, Lex. Clark is simply lashing out. Chloe must be feeding him some rumours she picked up from the street.  
  
"Clark, please, let me explain. Have a seat." Lex pointed his hand at the bench.  
  
"Why?" Clark asked. "Why ally yourself with the mob?"  
  
Lex took off his watch. "Remember this? The watch my mother gave me. It's five minutes slow and lost some of its varnish, but it still works." Clark held it, staring at the watch face of the embedded Napoleonic-era coin.  
  
"Have you been to the battlefield of Waterloo, Clark? I've been there a few times whenever I visit Belgium. It's quite a testament to Napoleon's accomplishments."  
  
"But didn't the Duke of Wellington win that battle?"  
  
"Ah, yes. Wellington managed to do what no other European army could do. He forced Bonaparte's Imperial Guard - the best troops in the whole Grande Armee - to retreat. The Brits were desperate. If they lost there, the French would have driven them into the sea."  
  
"So you're saying Wellington got a lucky break?"  
  
"No, what I'm saying is ... both men knew that Waterloo could make or break their legend. They seized the moment ... and to hell with the consequences. The battle could have gone either way ..."  
  
"Why are you telling me this, Lex?" Clark stared at Bonaparte's face in the watch.  
  
"The victors don't always get the spoils. Wellington won, and with it, all the glory and honours of the British Empire. Cities throughout the British Commonwealth bear his name. But even though he won at Waterloo, he went on to be a miserable - and forgettable - prime minister. People remember him BECAUSE of Napoleon. Napoleon, on the other hand, is immortal by any yardstick. By his natural abilities and sheer force of will, he laid the foundations for a modern Europe. His Napoleonic Code still thrives from the Pyrenees to the Alps. Leaders in every profession study his strategies. Two hundred years after the battle, his legacy lives on." He took back his watch. I'm sorry Mom, he thought, I can't be like you. Compassionate. Giving. I am my father's son.  
  
"Don't you see, Clark," he continued. "That's what I want. The sports cars, the estate, the money ... those are material possessions. At any time, I could lose them all. The revitalization of Metropolis downtown core ... the Olympics ... those are lasting things that will make people sit up and listen. It's the 21st century: I can't simply enlist in an army and make a name for myself like Napoleon. My redevelopment plan - that will be my legacy. Two hundred years from now, I want people to remember the Luthor name."  
  
"Oh I see, you would rather rule in hell than serve in heaven?!" Clark scoffed. "At what price ... what cost ... are you willing to pay to become a legend? You'll give the mob a free ride in Metropolis! If anything, you'll help them to turn the city into an urban wasteland! That's what's going to happen if you're depending on Rupert Thorne to forge this legacy of yours!"  
  
Lex paced around the bench. "I've never asked anything from you. I've done whatever I needed to do to help you and your family. I'm asking you today to ante up, Clark. I understand that the Daily Planet intends to go after the mob over the next few weeks. Look, I'll prove my innocence, you'll see! But I need time to do that. Can you ... do something to put a hold on the mob stories ... at least until the council votes on the redevelopment plan? Chloe doesn't trust me, Lois Lane hates my guts ... you're the only one I can turn to. I'm asking as a friend ... can you put a lid on those stories?"  
  
"I'm through doing favours for you, Lex. First you lied to me, now you're trying to cover up your criminal connections! What next, Lex? Are you going to order a hit on Chloe if she picks up Thorne's scent on you? You were my best friend. Closer than Pete, Chloe ... all of them ... I thought I could count on you." He stormed away.  
  
"Were?" Lex tried to catch up to Clark.  
  
"I can't be friends with you. Not anymore. You're in bed with the mob. That's not the Lex I knew in Smallville! The Lex Luthor I knew would have run Thorne and his goons out of town. You should have been the one shepherding the anti-racketeering bill through Congress. Now that will be Bruce Wayne's legacy. I can't imagine what yours will be. You forget, Napoleon was a ruthless tyrant. Overconfidence defeated him at Waterloo. I don't have a choice anymore. Our friendship's over!" Clark hopped into his sedan and zoomed away from his former friend.  
  
"Clark! Wait ... I can explain," Lex uttered in vain. Clark was the only true friend I had. I would have happily shared my triumphs with him. Now those triumphs will be mine alone. He clutched the watch in his hand. Someday, you'll be proud of me, Mom. Someday, all of America will listen to what I have to say ...  
  
[First National construction site, 11:51 a.m.]  
  
Mackenzie waited for the last of the workers to leave for lunch. He placed a pair of headphones on. Music seemed to help him concentrate. Focus. Let's have some Limp Biskit.  
  
Chloe Sullivan walked across the courtyard below. The Planet's staffers were eating lunch outside. Not a cloud in the sky. She had no time for lunch. A final edit at the office and either of my stories will be ready to run.  
  
My Thorne-mob-D.A. hit story was among my best work. Something to be proud of. My story about the mysterious green meteor, Clark's role and the implied guilt of Luthor Corp. ... well, I surpassed my expectations. Lex, the government, the military are all on the hook. This story spares no one. That won't happen ... if I kill the story. Clark, why didn't you tell me your secret? Because he couldn't trust me.  
  
If I run with this story, I'll prove him right. Chloe Sullivan, the Betrayer. Dammit, Clark! And who the hell does that masked avenger think he is, demanding that I suppress the facts about Clark.  
  
"You think you're special, you do ... I can see it in your eyes ..." Mackenzie began to sing. "I can see it when you laugh at me, look down on me, walk around on me ..."  
  
Chloe paused before the huge steel globe of the Daily Planet, the finest newspaper in the midwest. Not even the reputable Gotham Times could achieve the Planet's worldwide reputation. Its correspondents criss-crossed the globe. Colombia. The Hague. Bosnia. Afghanistan. Indonesia. Now the Caucasus. Telling the stories of those soldiers who lived. And the Whitney Fordmans who gave their lives.  
  
The city - no, the country - expects a Daily Planet reporter to tell the facts. Give them enough information to make reasonable conclusions and decisions. They can't do that if I cover up a story because I want to be a starry-eyed teenager again ... hoping that Clark Kent will ask me to the prom.  
  
No. The story ... THAT story must be published. I'm a reporter. People are counting on the Planet to make sense of this complicated world. A world put at risk if Clark allows his powers to run roughshod through the country. Not to mention Lex's interest in the green meteor's powers. The public need to know outweighs my past friendship with Clark.  
  
I must live up to that expectation. For the sake of Metropolis.  
  
Mackenzie opened his electrician's bag and pulled out a high-powered rifle. He mounted it on the tripod. "Just one more fight about your leadership, and I will straight up leave your shit, 'cause I've had enough of this ..."  
  
Chloe thought of the warning the dark knight had given. He would do whatever it took to prevent Clark from being manipulated - even if it meant killing him. I don't know what's worse: giving that vigilante the green light to pull his street justice crap in my city, or destroying Clark's life with a front page story. She checked her watch. 12:01. I can be in Perry White's office in five minutes. Fortune favours the brave, I've heard.  
  
I must be brave. And tell the truth. She approached the main entrance of the Planet building.  
  
Mackenzie adjusted the crosshairs of his scope. Aimed at the pretty crime reporter's heart. He flexed his gloved hands and placed his index finger on the trigger.  
  
"... and now I'm pissed ... yeah!"  
  
He cupped the base of the rifle and pulled the trigger. He nodded his head to the music. "This time I'm gonna let it all come out! This time I'm gonna stand up and shout! I'll do things my way - my way or the highway ..."  
  
Chloe thought she heard a POP! The force of the bullet spun her around. The courtyard seemed to whirl. Faces became blurred. "Oh my god! She's been shot!" someone yelled. Chloe fell backwards onto the concrete. A patch of blood began to pool on her blouse. "Chloe! You're going to be alright." Is this a dream, she wondered. Lois Lane stroking my hair. "You're a fighter, Sullivan! The ambulance is on its way!!"  
  
"... yes, I'll straight up leave your shit, and you'll be the one's who left ... missin' me ..." Mackenzie sang as he packed away his 'tools of the trade'.  
  
Clark pulled up to building and noticed the crowd. "Clark! Chloe's been shot!!" No! Clark barged through the throng of on-lookers. No!! He tossed aside his jacket. With my speed, she'll be in the hospital in one minute. Before he could pick her up, half a dozen police officers pushed everyone away.  
  
"Let me help her!!" Clark reached out towards Chloe, who was already pale- faced. "C-c-clark?" Chloe murmured. Clark shoved aside the officers and gripped her hand. "You pull through Chloe Sullivan, you hear me? You live! Whatever happens today ... you survive! You have to!" Two paramedics carted her into the ambulance.  
  
"S-s-sorry," Chloe gasped, before she disappeared with the wailing sirens.  
  
Clark, the most powerful man in Metropolis, was helpless. She'll make it, he hoped. Please - survive.  
  
Mackenzie pushed the freight elevator button. He had a plane ticket to Bermuda and a well-deserved vacation.  
  
Then he appeared in the elevator. "You don't know pain, Mackenzie. You will soon, if you don't tell me where I can fine your boss, Thorne!" Mackenzie lunged at him, but missed. In minutes, the hitman was battered and bruised.  
  
"Where's Thorne!" Bruce demanded, yanking Mackenzie up by the collar. "You know what happens when Thorne messes around in Gotham. I bring the heat down! If you think I'm going to let you corrupt Metropolis with your rackets, you are gravely mistaken!"  
  
"You're crazy!" Mackenzie spit out some blood. "Don't ... don't hurt me."  
  
"You're going to the feds! You're going to tell them EVERYTHING!" Bruce growled. "Pray that Ms. Sullivan lives through the night. She dies ... and so do you, you bastard!" Mackenzie whimpered - perhaps realizing that this Gotham vigilante could kill him at any moment.  
  
Hang on, Chloe, Bruce thought. If you pass away, who knows what Clark will do. Dear god, I hope he doesn't do something rash and stupid.  
  
If he does, I'll have to clean up the mess ..  
  
[AUTHOR'S NOTE: Keep your eyes open for the concluding chapter to 'The Path' ... soon!] 


	8. CH. 8 (NEW!)

[Metropolis General]  
  
Clark arrived in the emergency ward out of breath. The police were keeping the on-lookers and TV cameras out the hospital.  
  
Detective Reynolds called him over. "Did you see what happened, Kent?"  
  
"No. She was already shot when I arrived. Have you heard how she's doing?"  
  
The detective took him aside. "They just took her to the Operating Room. She's lost a lot of blood." Clark pounded his fist against the wall. "Look, Clark," Reynolds continued, "I've got the ETF scouring the First National construction site. No one gets in or out a three-mile radius without passing a checkpoint. Someone matching the description of a 'Mackenzie', a Thorne associate, was seen around the site .."  
  
"Rupert Thorne!" Clark swore. My entire life, Clark lamented, I possessed such awesome power. I'm a coward. I could have changed this outcome. Even now, with Chloe's life hanging by a thread. I won't let it get to that point. I'll do what even Bruce hasn't done.  
  
I'm taking Thorne down. If he resists, I'll make him pay. Chloe, I'm sorry.  
  
Someone barrelled down the hallway. "Clark, you son-of-a-bitch!" Jimmy Olsen punched him in the jaw, and shoved him against the wall. "Your buddy, Lex ordered the hit, didn't he?" Several cops tried to restrain Jimmy, but he continued to lunge at Clark.  
  
"It was Rupert Thorne, the mobster," Clark insisted, "Lex - he didn't - he wouldn't ..."  
  
Jimmy was hysterical. "All she wanted was to bring justice to the city. Keep Gotham's gangsters out of our neighbourhoods. Lex wanted to make Metropolis into his own image. Chloe fought against that ... and now she's gonna die. And you ... you let it happen, Kent!" He tried to lunge again, but Lois stopped him.  
  
"Stop it! Stop it, both of you!" Lois stood between them. She glared at Jimmy. "You lost the right to impose your wishes on the rest of us, the moment you split up with her. You wanted your career ahead of her happiness. You made your choice. So now you're back in town. If you're feeling guilty because you weren't here to help here when she needed it, that's your problem." Then she darted a glance at Clark. "Luckily for you, Chloe has something that'll set Lex Luthor's world on fire - Luthor and his mob friends. At least she had the courage to see deception when she saw it!"  
  
Clark gasped. "What do you mean?"  
  
"In the ambulance," Lois replied, "she thrust a piece of paper in my hand: the password to her Planet computer files. 'Publish the story', she told me. And that's exactly what I'm going to do!" She marched out of the waiting room.  
  
Clark watched the chaos around him. Jimmy was adjusting his blazer - shaking his head as the cops warned him to calm down. Two more officers guarded the O.R. Chloe would be safe.  
  
No thanks to me, Clark thought.  
  
Jimmy, after several minutes, walked towards him. Clark stood up, towering over the hot-headed photographer. "If it'll make you feel better, go on, Olsen, take you best shot." He opened up his arms. "Go on, let it out, hit me, yell at me or something!"  
  
Jimmy bowed his head. "Look, Clark, I don't want to fight you. I just got into town this morning. From the Caucasus war zone. I thought I'd left all the bloodshed behind. Coming here ... and finding out that Chloe ..." He crumpled on the chair and broke down. "I'm not feeling sorry for myself. I was stupid. I broke up with her, but I knew I had lost her when I made her choose between her job and my happiness."  
  
"Jimmy, you don't have to do this," Clark consoled.  
  
"She always valued you as a friend. Even when we were together, I realized you and Chloe had this ... connection. I wanted to believe we had that connection. I was wrong, and that's my fault for believing otherwise. I lost the right to watch over her when I left. You haven't, Clark."  
  
He clutched Clark's arm. "If - when - she pulls through, look after her. Please. Maybe you won't be best buddies, but I want her to know she can count on at least one friend. Look out for her." Jimmy wiped his face and stood up. "I've got to get these rolls developed. Reuters has been on my back about photos of the Caucasus crisis. I'll be right back."  
  
"I'll wait here ... and I'll let you know if Chloe's condition changes," Clark replied. Half an hour later, a surgeon exited the O.R.  
  
"Any word on Chloe?" Clark asked.  
  
The doctor motioned towards the couch. "The bullet narrowly missed her heart. But it punctured a lung. There was plenty of internal bleeding. She's in critical condition. We expect her to be in surgery for a few hours."  
  
"Thanks, doctor," Clark nodded. Now she's in Fate's hands.  
  
Clark stared icily at the hospital entrance. It's time to send Rupert Thorne to his fate.  
  
His hell.  
  
[Metropolis West hotel]  
  
Clark had read the Metro P.D. reports. Rupert Thorne conducted business in the hotel's Cabana Lounge. I'll send him the message Chloe didn't get a chance to deliver, Clark promised.  
  
When he entered the lounge, it was in disarray. Several splintered chairs. Smashed wine bottles. Two overturned tables. A blonde waitress - her nametag said 'Misty' - huddled behind the bar. Half a dozen of Thorne's thugs were unconscious. Draped over tables ... on the floor ... through a window ... or hooked onto the dart board.  
  
And Mackenzie, the hitman, bound and gagged on the pool table. Snapped pool sticks lay strewn across the floor like toothpicks.  
  
Enraged, Clark swung his fist. The blow would likely crush a skull. A boomerang sailed through the air, knocking Clark's hand aside.  
  
"Clark Kent's no vigilante. That's not how your father raised you." Bruce appeared from the shadows. "Meet my friend, Mackenzie. He's going to tell the FBI everything, right?"  
  
Mackenzie nodded vigorously.  
  
Clark stepped over the eight-ball on the floor. "I see you've done some house-cleaning."  
  
"Chloe's in the hospital and now you want revenge. Stop playing the Hollywood cliche, Clark. Revenge solves nothing. Nothing! You should know that, after all these years."  
  
"What are you going to do about her?" Clark nodded his head at Misty, the waitress.  
  
"Misty's my friend too," Bruce mumbled, "she's going to tell the cops everything. We'll get her a suspended sentence. I think she realizes that a mobster's world is not quite as glamourous as Thorne led her to believe."  
  
Clark scratched his head. "I guess there's not much left for me to do, since you've wrapped things up."  
  
"There is one thing," Bruce stated. He blindfolded Mackenzie and shoved him in a closet. "He can't see this." He pointed at Misty and directed her to the back office. "Stay inside." Bruce ordered.  
  
Bruce removed his cowl. "I just wanted you to know that the person behind the mask is still the friend who helped you to train. To grow ... all those years ago. The mask changes nothing between us. If things change from now on, it's because you and I make those choices consciously. I'm interested in your choice ..."  
  
"About Lex?" Clark answered.  
  
"About everything. Lex. Your readiness. This path you want to take." Bruce put on the gruesome cowl again.  
  
"I don't think I'm ever going to get used to your cape-and-cowl," Clark smirked. "Lex and I are history. You were right. My dad was right. A Luthor cannot be trusted. He loves power. That's all he really wants. As for Chloe, I'm afraid she may yet reveal my secret."  
  
"We'll cross that bridge if it comes," Bruce stated. "She knows you want to retain her friendship - such as it is. What she does with your trust is her choice. I've let her know the consequences."  
  
"How was Pete's radio launch?" Clark wondered, as he pushed aside a broken chair leg with his feet.  
  
"Smashing success," Bruce announced. "Mr. Ross played the FBI tape that connects Lex to the Gotham mob. Now all of America knows about Lex's scheming. Luthor Corp. lawyers are petitioning to seize the tape, though. The legal battle alone will provide months of fodder for those media hacks - present company excluded. Pete gets to work in Wichita. I think he's in his element as a talk show host. I only hope CNN doesn't scoop him up."  
  
Bruce opened up the closet. Mackenzie shook his head violently. "I hope Ms. Sullivan makes it through surgery, you piece of scum! Remember what I told you. She dies ... and I repay that mistake a thousand-fold. On your Gotham buddies. On Thorne. On you!" Mackenzie looked up at Clark, pleading for sympathy.  
  
"You'd better turn him in before he wets his pants," Clark remarked.  
  
"Are you telling me that you are committed to this cause?" Bruce added. "You take on that mantle, there's no going back."  
  
"I said I am. What - you need proof?" Clark picked up Mackenzie and bound him on a chair.  
  
"Clark ..." Bruce grumbled. "What are you doing?"  
  
"I'm sending my 'buddy' Lex a message. That Metropolis isn't his town any longer." Bruce looked out the window as Clark - clutching the terrified gangster in his arm - sprinted across the laneway.  
  
And flew into the air.  
  
Bruce gazed in awe at his pupil. When did he learn how to fly?  
  
Misty knocked from inside the office. "Can I come out, Mr. Vigilante?"  
  
Bruce called Metro P.D. One anonymous phone call will clean up this mess.  
  
I wonder what Clark is up to ...  
  
[Luthor Corp. Towers, 78th floor]  
  
Lex Luthor had summoned his allies on city council, key investors, sympathetic congressmen, and the board chairmen of a dozen charities. A hasty news conference to demonstrate Luthor Corp.'s stability.  
  
And strength.  
  
News of the Luthor connection to Rupert Thorne was now surfacing on the local TV stations. By tonight, all the papers will plaster the story across their front pages.  
  
Dozens of camera flashed snapped. Lex stepped to the microphone.  
  
"Luthor Corp. has endured several trials over its long history. The gas crisis of the 70s. The environmentalists' sabotage scare tactics of the 80s. The paralysing recession of the 90s. The investor scandals of Enron and WorldCom at the dawn of this new century. Luthor Corp. has withstood all challenges ..." He paused for effect.  
  
"And surmounted them. Recent news reports allege my connection to the infamous Gotham mob. I will not, on advice of my counsel, make comments on the facts of the case. I will exercise my fifth amendment privileges. I am launching a multi-million dollar lawsuit against Wayne Enterprises, the FBI, and Pete Ross. Luthor Corp. will continue to thrive! I am prepared to take a few questions at this time ..."  
  
"Wasn't Pete Ross a friend of yours?" the Inquisitor's reporter asked. A flood of questions erupted in the room.  
  
"Are you saying now that you have no connection to the Gotham mob? How can you claim that when several Teamsters unions insist that they're prepared to mobilize - in the event that you run for Governor of Kansas?"  
  
"Confirm or deny, Mr. Luthor. You are considering a run for Congress. Surely these FBI tapes would put a damper on your plans, won't they?"  
  
"In light of these revelations, do you feel responsible for the attempt on Chloe Sullivan's life?"  
  
Lex pounded the boardroom table, silencing the crowd. "Pete Ross was a friend of mine in Smallville. I chose to re-energize Metropolis with my redevelopment plan. Pete, well, he chose to be a mudracking hack. That's his problem. I do not wish to run for office - at this time. No, I'm not beholden to the Teamsters. No, I have no connection to organized crime. Yes, I regret that Chloe was caught in a turf war between Thorne's hoods and the Metropolis mob. And no, I feel no responsibility for what happened to her. Let me reiterate: my defense team will present my side of the case. I have no further comments at this time."  
  
A few heads turned towards the window. A bird was racing towards the building.  
  
"Luthor Corp. ... will continue to serve the needs of all Americans ..." Lex continued, but more people huddled near the panoramic boardroom window. Lex glanced outside.  
  
"It's ... it's a plane!" one woman shrieked. Whatever it was, it was accelerating. Closer.  
  
The crowd began to push towards the exits. Something crashed through the window. Shards of glass fell across the floor. It skated across the boardroom table.  
  
It was Mackenzie, Thorne's enforcer. Lex's mouth gaped in horror. Mackenzie mumbled incoherently.  
  
"I'll tell you everything! Everything! Just keep HIM away!" Mackenzie screamed. Lex pushed aside the investors, reporters and employees. The gust of wind swirled papers around the room.  
  
He stood at the jagged hole in the window. A streak - was it a plane? - zoomed away.  
  
Someone who wants Thorne. That urban myth: the dark knight. It was him. It must have been him!  
  
Lex spun around at the terrified crowd. "I want everybody out! Now! Out!" Luthor Corp. security guards herded them away from the room. A dozen police officers arrived. Detective Reynolds clapped handcuffs on Mackenzie.  
  
"I'd be honoured to take out this trash for you, Mr. Luthor," Reynolds grinned. "Here's my card. I think we'll be having a chat sometime soon."  
  
Lex stood alone in what was left of the Luthor Corp.'s Executive Boardroom. Employees referred to it as the 'Napoleon Room' because a portrait of Bonaparte hung against the wall. Lex brushed off the debris.  
  
I haven't reached my Waterloo, yet, Lex pledged. I can't trust anyone. Not Thorne. Not those leeches in Congress.  
  
Not even Clark Kent, who should have been loyal to me. God, I poured my resources into trying to save his dying father.  
  
It doesn't matter. I alone can salvage my destiny.  
  
My destiny is to be great. I will surpass my father.  
  
I will surpass them all.  
  
Lex began to pick up the scattered papers of his empire. A renewal, it seemed.  
  
Nothing ...  
  
... no one ... will stop me.  
  
Pete crossed the line. I am now forced to crucify him, the sorry bastard.  
  
If Clark - one day - repays my generosity with betrayal, that will be his error in judgment.  
  
Mistakes have consequences.  
  
Choose well, Clark Kent.  
  
At six o'clock, the Daily Planet printed the full page front story. 'THORNE LINKED TO METROPOLIS D.A. HIT. LUTHOR AND MOB IN UNHOLY ALLIANCE' Wire services picked up the story. Chloe Sullivan had written the story of her career.  
  
And she ran with it.  
  
[Metropolis General, one week later]  
  
Chloe laughed. She hadn't laughed like this for a long time.  
  
Pete Ross, Lana Lang and Clark Kent were all there. Lex was also there - monetarily at least. He paid the bill for the private room.  
  
"The moment I heard what had happened, I had to come over," Lana squeezed Chloe's hand.  
  
"Ouch." Chloe still had intravenous tubes in her arm.  
  
"I'm sorry I can't stay longer," Pete stated. He patted Chloe's shoulder. "Take care, and don't let the mob - or Lex - push you around. I'm just glad you're okay." He blew a kiss to Lana and left the room.  
  
Chloe nodded. Even now, there's this distance between me and Pete. When Lana told me last night that Pete had once harboured feelings for me, I was shocked. All this time, and I never knew. Of course, I wouldn't. I was too busy chasing Clark, the man of steel.  
  
Pete stepped outside the room. Clark leaned against the wall.  
  
"It's too late, Clark," Pete declared, "The shit hit the fan. Your buddy, Lex, knows it. That's why he's suing me and Wayne."  
  
"Lex isn't my buddy. Not any more," Clark admitted.  
  
"The scales fell from your eyes, eh?" Pete scoffed. "Chloe barely escaped with her life, Lex is trying to destroy me in court ... and that's all you have to say?"  
  
Clark frowned. "I'm ... trying, Pete. I've made bad choices, I know. Look, why don't we go grab a coffee, something to eat ... before you head back to Wichita."  
  
"It's not that simple, Kent. I placed my trust in you. And you tossed it aside. You chose Lex's friendship over mine. I was there when your dad died, yet you turned to Lex for support. So now you see the light. That's good, good for you. It's about time! That doesn't erase the past."  
  
"So how do we fix this?" Clark asked.  
  
Pete bowed his head. "I don't know if there's anything to fix. I don't think we can be pals like we were at Smallville High. That bond's been broken. We'd have to start from scratch."  
  
"It's a start?" Clark hoped.  
  
Too much disappointment, Pete thought. We had our fork in the road ... and parted ways. If we do try to rebuild a friendship ...  
  
"I'll pass on the coffee," Pete replied, to Clark's dismay. "I have to get back to Wichita tonight. Larry King is dropping by."  
  
Clark extended a hand. Pete saw the gesture. And remembered a time when he could count on Clark's trust. Could I trust him again?  
  
Pete shook his hand. "Keep it real, Clark, that's all I ask." Then Pete left.  
  
Clark shuffled back into Chloe's room. Lana immediately read the disappointment in his face.  
  
"Pete wasn't ready to make peace just yet?" Lana asked.  
  
"I can't blame him," Clark replied. "To be brutally honest, I betrayed his trust. Misplaced my faith in Lex Luthor. That's something a simple 'I'm sorry' isn't going to mend overnight."  
  
Lana stood up. "I'll be here until tomorrow morning. Perhaps we can all have breakfast here before I go?"  
  
Chloe frowned. "I have some tests to go through tomorrow morning. They won't bring me back until noon."  
  
Clark also nodded. "I'm covering the city hall angle on the Luthor crisis. I - could ask Perry to assign someone else ..."  
  
Lana was clearly disappointed. Chloe, well, I can understand she's bed- ridden. But Clark. You could have sounded more enthusiastic about making time for an old friend ...  
  
No one has time for poor, widowed Lana. "I guess this is goodbye then." She kissed Chloe on the forehead. "Take care, Sullivan." Clark walked her out of the room.  
  
"I wish things had turned out differently," Clark lamented. "Among the four of us ... Chloe, Pete ..."  
  
"... you ... and me." Lana completed the sentence.  
  
"What if ..." Clark began. What if Whitney didn't propose to Lana? What if I had stayed in Smallville instead of pursuing glory in Metropolis?  
  
"Please, Clark, don't go there," Lana insisted. "We had our opportunity. A long time ago. I chose Whitney, remember? You held a candle for Chloe. Pete backed away from Chloe when you began to show interest in her. We made choices. No one's to blame."  
  
"Can't we do something about it? Turn a new leaf?" Clark brushed her face.  
  
"No. No!" Lana shrugged him away. "When those two Marine Corps officers came up to the farmhouse, I knew that the world - as I knew it - ended that day. Whitney had died in some distant war. Forgotten by all of you. He, above all, was there for me! Don't you understand? I have no one. Not even you."  
  
Clark hugged her. Lana's mind filled with the happy memories of her teenage life. Cheerleading. Managing the Talon. Graduation night with Pete, Chloe and Clark. Nothing would separate us.  
  
Lana sobbed. "Why can't things be the way they were? Don't you see - that's why it hurts so much. The distance between all of us. It's didn't just happen. We LET it happen!"  
  
Clark knew she was right. We should have been there for each other. I don't know what happened. Whitney's death - that proved to us that life was fragile. Precious. Maybe that's why he pursued our personal dreams with such passion.  
  
And left Lana Lang on the sidelines.  
  
Lana wiped her eyes. "That's all water under the bridge, isn't it? I'll go back to Smallville. Continue my studies at Leesburg College. Move on with my life."  
  
"Don't ... don't go ..." Clark struggled for the words. A decade of regrets. I don't know where to begin.  
  
"I'm glad you realized the mistakes you made with Pete and Chloe. With Lex. I was also naive - hoping that we could cling to our friendships after graduation. There's a lesson there: don't take anything for granted. Maybe something good will come of this after all."  
  
She gave Clark a parting kiss on the cheek and walked confidently away.  
  
I may yet run into Pete Ross. Journalists do tend to cross paths.  
  
Clark watched the 'fairy princess' of Smallville walk away. I know today that I will never see Lana Lang again. She had the strength to accept that her future lies not in Metropolis, but in Smallville.  
  
My future is here - and I still can't accept it. Lana was truly the strongest person I ever knew.  
  
Clark reluctantly entered Chloe's room. Enter the final phase of my destiny.  
  
My curse.  
  
Chloe beamed. "So you're going back to the Planet soon? I hear Perry White has some plans for you."  
  
"He thinks my 'experience' with the Luthors would help in the financial section of the paper. He has some ideas about a business ethics series." Clark bowed his head. Stay strong, he told himself. Focus on your path. You owe it to Bruce. To Dad. To yourself.  
  
"That's great! Pretty soon, I'll be back in good health. Chloe and Clark ... tackling crime and fraud whenever it rears its ugly head. Just like at the Torch!" She had hoped that running with the Thorne story, instead of the 'Super Man' story, had smoothed over their differences.  
  
Clark cleared his throat. "Chloe." He stopped, then paced nervously.  
  
"Clark?" Chloe wondered. No! He knows.  
  
"Chloe, I went by your office the other day. To retrieve that Metro P.D. report on Mackenzie."  
  
Chloe slowly shook her head in disbelief. No!  
  
"Some rough notes fell out. Sketches of a story. The Wall of Weird. The meteor. How it killed Lana's parents. And how it all connects to me. The meteor baby boy. The 'Super Man from Smallville'!"  
  
He sat beside her bed. "Can you look at me - and give me your word that you didn't write that story?"  
  
"Clark, I ran with the Rupert Thorne expose! I chose that story!"  
  
"That's not what I asked. Did you write that story, keeping it in reserve until such time that my powers become a threat to the city or the country? Give me your word that you didn't write that story!"  
  
"I can't give you my word ... because I did write that story. That night we had the argument. How did Mackenzie end up on the 78th floor of Luthor Towers? If you're taking after that Gotham vigilante, who knows what else you'll be capable of?"  
  
"And how were you going to spring this revelation: 'Thanks for helping me with this story, Clark, now tomorrow, I'm going to destroy your life in the papers. I'll spill your secret. It's nothing personal'?"  
  
"Oh, and I suppose you're the only journalist in Metropolis with impeccable ethics? I'm a Daily Planet reporter. That means I report the truth!"  
  
"Your version of the truth," Clark grumbled.  
  
"But I buried your story because you've chosen to be one of the good guys. You've broken your ties with Lex. You're not the potential threat you once were."  
  
"At any time, you could drag that story out whenever you - you alone - decide that I have become a threat, as you perceive it. It's my life you're toying with!"  
  
"We've had this argument already," Chloe turned her head away from Clark. "Are you saying we're at an impasse?"  
  
"All of my friendships are in tatters. I've lost Pete. I've lost Lana. I accept responsibility for that. I cut my bond with Lex, the most powerful man this side of the Mississippi. There will be consequences. I can't take the next step in my path if I have to look over my shoulder every time you hand a story over to Perry!"  
  
"So what exactly are you saying, Clark Kent?" Chloe demanded.  
  
"As long as the story - my story - exists, I can't trust you. We'll return to the Planet and work on our stories. Share leads. Trade contacts and sources. Don't expect that I'll confide in you, like we used to in Smallville. We ..." Clark paused, and looked at the Metropolis skyline.  
  
"We can't be friends. There, it's official. I'm tired of apologizing for being different. If you're not prepared to look beyond my 'abilities', I can never be sure if you'll hurt me."  
  
"But I didn't print the story!" Chloe declared. Why is he being so self- important? A side-effect of his Luthor relationship.  
  
"The story exists. Whether in hard copy or in some file on your hard drive ... you possess the story that could turn my world upside down. I'm not a threat. You are. Until you realize that, we're not going to have this discussion again." Clark put on his blazer.  
  
"Get well soon, Chloe. I'll see you back at the office." He turned away and walked out of the room. He sat on a bench outside the hospital and waited for the bus.  
  
He looked up at Chloe's room. This is my path, Chloe Sullivan. If it means that I must sever ties with one of the few friends I have left, so be it.  
  
Clark stood up and ran. He kept running. Sacrifices are part of the game, Bruce had told him. He ran several blocks. He tried to purge from his mind a decade of remorse, misunderstandings and bad decisions.  
  
"Clark?" Lois Lane stopped him on the sidewalk. "Are you alright? You seem, well, stressed."  
  
Clark smiled. At least I can count on Lois Lane. "Can I buy you a coffee, Lois?"  
  
"Okay, as long as it's 'to go'. I'm meeting the mayor. City hall is killing the redevelopment scheme. Anyway, you're avoiding the question. How are you?"  
  
"I've been better," Clark replied. I will be better - once the Super Man from Smallville takes flight.  
  
In the hospital, Chloe watched CNN. Pete was defending his name against Luthor charges that his reports amounted to 'character assassination'. She remembered a media ethics class she had taken in college.  
  
A good reporter should follow these principles in every story, the professor had stated.  
  
'Tell the truth as much as possible.'  
  
'Act independently.'  
  
'Minimize harm.'  
  
She was confident that she had obeyed the first two. I'm telling the truth. The potential for danger is there. Clark may yet fall under Lex's influence. I'm sticking to the story: I'll print it if Clark becomes a vigilante - usurping the role of a cop - to pummel criminals into submission. I can't let my feelings for a friend cloud my judgment.  
  
Friend. We were friends ...  
  
Once.  
  
In the summer of 2002, Lana had invited Pete, Clark and Chloe over for a picnic.  
  
"I can't wait for school to start again," Chloe blurted. "I'm going to revamp the Torch. Maybe make some new sections ..."  
  
"Ya gotta chill out, girl!" Pete remarked. "It's summer. School's the last thing on my mind."  
  
Lana cut several slices of apple pie. "We've seen a lot of changes over the past year. But we've all stuck it through. I know this might sound silly, but let's promise that - no matter what happens - we'll always be friends."  
  
"You're right, Lana, that is silly," Clark laughed, "of course we're going to be friends."  
  
Lana suddenly became serious. "Whitney left me behind to join the Marines, and I didn't see it coming. I don't want that to happen again."  
  
"It won't," Chloe promised. "You can always count on me." She placed her hand on Lana's.  
  
"And me." Pete added, and placed his hand on Chloe's.  
  
"Well, you know there were actually FOUR musketeers. Everyone forgets D'artagnan. We'll be friends. Always."  
  
"All for one, and one for all," Chloe declared. They laughed as they shared an apple pie on a lazy summer afternoon.  
  
Chloe returned to the present. Lex was now on the TV screen. "Pete Ross was a friend. Now he's a traitor."  
  
"A traitor?" Larry King inquired. "Just because he's reporting the facts."  
  
"Facts based on his version of the truth," Lex snapped, "He could have come to me. Given me a chance to explain. No, he chose to run with a flawed story. He betrayed my faith in him. If that's not treason, I don't know what is."  
  
Chloe burst into tears. 'Minimize harm', the last ethical commandment for reporters. Clark wanted to have faith in me. Knowing that I could never back down from my principles, I've harmed my relationship with Clark - permanently.  
  
Each of us chose our road in life. Pete, Lana, Clark and I ... we arrived at an intersection one day.  
  
And never looked back.  
  
[Metropolis Cathedral, midnight]  
  
Bruce perched atop a gargoyle. Clark crouched on the roof. "I'd love to stick around, Bruce, but some of us have to work tomorrow."  
  
"That's fine. I'll be leaving your city tomorrow. I've got a lead on Rupert Thorne."  
  
"So Metropolis loses its dark guardian," Clark stated. "Where does that leave me?"  
  
"The night belongs to me. It always has. Lex was right about one thing. Metropolis doesn't have to become a cesspool like Gotham. You can make it better."  
  
"So when the sun rises tomorrow ..." Clark pondered.  
  
"The day is yours. And every day after that, until you choose to give up that duty. Or until you become a bad guy. Then, I'll have to come back and kick your ass. You don't want that to happen."  
  
"It won't," Clark replied. "Thanks, Bruce ... I - don't have the words ..." He turned to shake Bruce's hand, but he was already gone.  
  
That's okay, Clark beamed. Metropolis has its own protector now.  
  
THE END  
  
[AUTHOR'S NOTE: This marks the end of 'The Path'. One day, I may return to this alternate universe: a world where the Smallville 'friends' have taken different roads. Clark has assumed his destiny. So has Lex. Both at a high price. It's not a fairy tale, nor was it ever designed to be one. Perhaps the real tragedy is that these situations happen every day. You don't need Lex's wealth, Clark's powers, or Chloe's determination to take things for granted...] 


End file.
